<b>84 </b>


    Liam’s POV


    The clock on the nightstand read five in the morning when I woke up. The house was silent, yet my chest felt unbearably heavy. This unease wasn’t like the usual kind. It was sharper, gnawing at me as though something was wrong.


    I sat at the edge of the bed, running both hands over my face. Normally, I would fall back asleep after waking this early, but not this time. My body refused. There was a pull–an invisible rm screaming inside me. I got up, walked to the window, and pushed the curtain aside. The sky outside was still draped in gray, dawn only beginning to break through the night. The cold air slipped in, brushing against my skin, but it wasn’t the chill that made me shiver. It was the emptiness, the strange pull toward something I couldn’t name.


    I tried to ignore it. I made coffee, sat at the table, turned on my phone. But even as my eyes stared at the nk screen, my mind drifted in one direction. Sienna. Her name appeared uninvited, clear and insistent. I had promised myself I would give her space, let her find her peace. Yet this time, my heart rebelled. It wouldn’t stay still.


    I took a sip of the coffee–too hot, tasteless on my tongue. My left hand tapped the table again and again, restless. Finally, I picked up my phone and opened her contact. Her name glowed on the screen. My


    finger trembled over it, afraid to press the call button. Afraid of her voice sounding cold, afraid of


    disturbing her, afraid of pushing her further away.


    But stronger than the fear was this gnawing certainty–that she was alone, facing something. Something


    I couldn’t see but couldn’t deny.


    I dragged a hand over my face, trying to shake it off. The more I resisted, the stronger it pressed against <ol><li>me. I grabbed the phone again, searched for her name, and pressed call. </li></ol>


    The ringing tone filled my ear. Once twice three times. No answer. The call cut off on its own. Maybe she


    was still asleep, I told myself, clinging <i>to </i>the thought. Yet the heaviness in my chest only deepened.


    Suddenly, a small cry broke the silence from the next room. “Mommy, Mommy.” Noah’s voice,ced with sobs. I rushed in and opened the door.


    “Noah?” He was sitting on his bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. The moment he saw me, he reached out, clutching my hand tightly.


    “Daddy,” his voice quivered. “I dreamed about Mommy. She was in pain she was hurting so bad.”


    I froze. His words sent a chill up my spine. His dream echoed my unease, the dread I’d carried since waking. “It was just a dream,” I whispered, pulling him into my arms. “Just a dream.” I tried to soothe him, though inside, I wasn’t sure at all.


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    He looked up at me with red–rimmed eyes, waiting, searching for reassurance I couldn’t fully give. I forced a faint smile. “Go back to sleep, okay? You’ve got school today.”


    “Noah doesn’t want to. Mommy’s really sick, isn’t she?”


    The question cut the air from my lungs. “Mommy’s fine. Trust Daddy,” I said, brushing his hair gently. But the words rang hollow, even in my own ears.


    Eventually, hey back down, eyes heavy. I sat by his side until his breathing steadied and he drifted off again. Only then did I slip out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.


    In the dark hallway, I stood motionless, the phone cold in my hand. My fingers shook as the screen lit up my pale reflection. My eyes locked on her name. The unease was a weight pressing deeper, constricting every breath.


    I opened the dialer. My thumb hovered over the green button. My pulse hammered, sweat sliding from my temple. I pressed it atst, the tone echoing once more in my ear. Long. Empty. No answer. I tried again. Nothing. Silence.


    My body stiffened, my mind spinning into every dark possibility. I paced the living room, back and forth, under the dim light that only sharpened my restlessness. Part of me wanted to believe she was fine, that I


    was overthinking. But the whisper in my chest wouldn’t stop: Something’s wrong.


    I stopped at the window, pushing the curtain aside just enough to look out. The sky was still gray, the streets almost deserted save for a car or two. The silence outside was no different from the silence inside


    me–tight, suffocating.


    I clutched the phone again, typing out a message, then deleting it. I typed another, erased it. No words. were right. They all felt meaningless. The clock ticked on, slow and merciless, every second driving the


    dread deeper.


    I sank onto the sofa, elbows braced against my knees, hands covering my face. My chest heaved under


    the strain of it. The pounding in my head was relentless, the heartbeat in my ears chaotic. The feeling


    refused to let me go–an endless tide crashing into me.


    And then Noah’s face shed in my mind again. His tearful eyes, filled with fear. Eyes that seemed to know something I didn’t. The pressure in my chest tightened into resolve.


    I couldn’t sit here. Not anymore.


    Without another thought, I called the babysitter. My voice was clipped, urgent: “Can youe now? Noah’s still asleep, but I need to leave. It’s important.”


    Thank God she said yes. The moment the call ended, I grabbed my jacket and car keys. It felt like a ma, pulling me, dragging me in one direction–toward Sienna.


    As the elevator carried me down, my mind raced. What was she doing right now? Was she truly all right?


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    Or My thoughts stopped cold. No. I couldn’t let myself picture the worst.


    The cold morning air brushed against my face the moment I stepped out of the building. My strides were quick, almost breaking into a run as I headed for the car. I started the engine and drove off, the streets still mostly empty.


    The car moved at a steady pace along the roads slick with morning dew. The windshield fogged slightly, forcing me to switch on the wipers every now and then. At first, the drive felt smooth. The city was still


    waking, only a handful of vehicles passing by. I thought I’d make it quickly, that I’d soon be able to see


    with my own eyes that everything was fine. But that hope dissolved in an instant when a string of


    hazard lights flickered ahead.


    A line of cars hade to a tight stop, stretching far down the road. I pressed the brakes gently, the car halting with a small jolt. The re of horns erupted from behind, adding to the tension. Leaning forward, I tried to make out whaty at the end of the jam. Blue and red police lights pulsed faintly, mingling with the shing of ambnces.