he moment the front door clicked shut behind Harper and Leo, the house seemed too still. Their laughter, the rhythm of Harper's footsteps and Leo's low voice—all of it vanished into the evening air, leaving Alex and Liam alone with his mother.
She stood by the kitchen counter, one hand lingering on the rim of her coffee cup though it had long gone cold. Her eyes, dark and distant, seemed fixed on nothing at all. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, but it slithered through the air like smoke.
"Leo's a good boy," she said, almost absentmindedly, as if talking more to herself than to them. "So protective… but sometimes protectiveness comes from fear. Don't you think, Alex?"
