Sunlight leaked weakly through the blinds, painting Alex's room in pale stripes. The world outside seemed ordinary—birds calling, distant traffic—but inside his room, the air felt heavy, almost sticky. Something about this morning wasn't right.
He stirred, eyelids cracking open to the blurry outline of Liam sprawled across his bed, sleeping like he owned the world. And, for a moment, everything felt warm, safe, right.
Then came the knock.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Alex froze. That knock wasn't casual. It carried insistence, authority, a weight he hadn't wanted to face this early. His stomach flipped.
"Alex! Open this door right now!"
His heart dropped. His mother's voice—sharp, commanding, unrelenting. Panic clawed at him. He could feel the warmth of Liam beside him and panic at the same time. Liam was still here. Still sleeping here. And his mom? She couldn't know. She couldn't.
