(LIAM'S POV)
I held Helen as she wept in my arms, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her fingers dug into my shirt, clutching me like I was the only thing keeping her from being swept away by the darkness that had been consuming her.
My mother moved closer, her weathered hand reaching out to stroke Helen's hair with a tenderness that made my heart ache. She looked at her daughter with pure, undiluted love—the kind of love that had been buried under years of survival, years of hiding, years of trying to protect her children from a monster she couldn't defeat.
"Shh, my baby," my mother whispered, her voice cracking. "Momma's here. Momma's got you."
I looked down at Helen's face, pale and gaunt, her eyes hollow with exhaustion. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks—maybe longer. The same dark circles that had plagued me before I met Dylan and Roland now carved deep shadows under her eyes.
The nightmares.
