*****Hollis*****The soft click of the hospital door closing behind us barely registered in my mind. Hailey was sitting there, the pale hospital gown draped over her, her once vibrant eyes now dulled by grief and exhaustion. I couldn’t bear to see her like this, broken in a way that words could never quite describe. The pain that etched itself into her face, the way her body trembled as if it were carrying the weight of a thousand storms—it shattered me.I sat beside her, my heart aching at every flicker of emotion that passed across her face. She didn’t want the soup, I could tell. Her body, still recovering from the trauma, wasn’t ready to take in anything, but I needed her to eat. She needed to feel some kind of comfort, something to counter the all-consuming grief that had taken over. But I knew better than to push too hard. Hailey was not the kind of woman who could be forced into anything, especially when she was struggling like this.“Just one more spoonful,” I coaxed softly, t
***Hailey****The room was suffocating, every breath tinged with the sterile sting of antiseptic, every corner thick with the oppressive weight of loss. I couldn’t seem to escape the constant hum of the machines, the feeling that time was moving, but I was stuck, suspended in a moment that stretched on forever. But then, a small voice cut through the quiet, a voice that always made my heart race with love.“Mommy?”It wasn’t just the sound of her voice that broke the stillness, but the urgency, the concern, the love. I snapped my head toward the door, and there she was—Summer. My little girl, her face framed by the doorway, her big brown eyes wide with worry. She was so small, yet she carried the weight of the world in those eyes. And right behind her, waddling with all the grace of a two-year-old, was Max, holding onto her hand like he didn’t quite know what was going on but was determined to follow her anyway.Summer’s eyes found mine instantly, and without a moment’s hesitation, sh
*****Hollis*****The hospital room was heavy, suffocating with silence that cut sharper than any scream. Hailey hadn’t spoken much since the day we lost everything. She stayed curled on her side, her back to me, staring at the wall like it held answers to questions she couldn’t voice.I sat beside her bed, my elbows resting on my knees, watching her. I didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t respond even if I did. But the weight in her eyes, the sharp edges of grief and rage, were deafening.Finally, she stirred, her voice breaking the quiet.“He did this."I straightened in my chair, her words slicing through the thick air between us.“Ben,” she said, her voice trembling with anger that barely held back the tears. “He took everything from me. My baby. My peace. Everything I fought to rebuild."Her hands clenched the blanket so tightly that her knuckles went white. When she turned her head to face me, the look in her eyes hit me like a freight train.“I hate him,” she hissed. “I hate that I
****Hollis****The room was quiet—almost too quiet—except for the steady beep of the heart monitor beside the bed. It felt like the world outside had stopped, leaving just the two of us in this small, sterile space. Hailey was asleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath, but there was still a hint of tension in her face. I could see it, even in her sleep—the weight of everything that had happened, the unspoken pain that clung to her like a shadow. I couldn’t stop looking at her, though. Every time I thought about what she’d been through, it made something inside me tighten. This room had become both a sanctuary and a prison. In a way, I didn’t want it to end. But I knew it had to. She was about to be discharged. And that meant everything would be real again. Real in a way I wasn’t ready for. Lying with her in this small hospital bed, I wished I could freeze time and protect her from the world outside these walls. But I knew she was strong enough to face whatever came next
*****Hailey****The car hummed softly beneath us, the road slipping by in a blur of lights and shadows. My mind was still foggy from the meds, exhaustion dragging me under, but as we left the hospital behind, everything felt too sharp, too real. I was going home. But nothing about this home felt like it did before.Hollis sat beside me, his hand barely touching mine but enough to ground me. He hadn’t said much since we left the hospital. His silence was a weight that sat heavy between us, but I didn’t need him to speak. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was—about the life that had been torn apart, about the cracks we couldn’t fix. The questions that had no answers yet.The drive felt endless, the world outside blending together in a haze, like I was stuck in two worlds at once—one that nearly destroyed me and the one I was supposed to return to. I wasn’t the same person who’d left, and neither was he. Neither were his kids.When we finally pulled into the driveway, I could feel
****Hailey****The air was thick with tension as I stood frozen in the doorway. The man on the porch didn’t belong in this world of warm lights and soft edges. His presence felt sharp, jagged, and entirely unwelcome.Hollis’s grandfather.He stood there, tall and unyielding, his sharp features chiseled with an air of authority that made my chest tighten. His piercing eyes swept over me with something too calculating to be mere curiosity.“Hailey,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue like a dark promise. “We need to talk."The words lodged in my throat as Hollis stepped in front of me, his broad shoulders blocking the older man from my view. The tension in his body was palpable, coiling like a spring about to snap.“You’re not welcome here,” Hollis growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.The older man chuckled, a sound that seemed to carry years of malice. “Is that any way to greet your family, boy?"“You’re not my family,” Hollis spat, his words cutting l
****Hailey****The air in the house was suffocating, pressing in from all sides like a heavy weight on my chest. I hadn’t expected to feel like this. I hadn’t expected anything, really. Hollis had walked out, leaving behind nothing but the echo of his words that hung in the air like a storm cloud. And I knew, in the pit of my stomach, that something had broken. But it wasn’t just my heart.It was everything.I sank into the couch, clutching a pillow to my chest, as if it could somehow shield me from the storm swirling inside me. Every breath felt shallow, every thought like it was coated in the sharp sting of the past few hours. What had just happened? What had I learned? Hollis’s grandfather—his presence had been like a blade, cutting through the walls I’d built around myself, leaving me exposed and raw. His words still echoed in my mind, cutting deeper with each passing second. And then that smile. That knowing, cold smile.It wasn’t just what he said. It was how he made me feel—lik
Hollis couldn’t breathe. He leaned against the doorframe, his chest tight, his breath shallow, like he was drowning in a sea of guilt that was rising faster than he could ever hope to escape.The weight of the words hung between them—"I killed her."His eyes burned as they blurred with tears that never seemed to fall. But the ache—the unbearable, unshakable ache deep in his chest—never went away. He had thought if he buried it enough, maybe he wouldn’t feel it. If he didn’t look too closely at the truth, maybe he could pretend that he wasn’t a monster. That he didn’t have blood on his hands.But that was all he ever felt now—the blood. The guilt that wrapped around him like a noose. And no matter how much he tried to push it away, no matter how hard he tried to keep his distance from everyone, especially his children, the truth was there. It was always there.His voice cracked as he forced himself to speak again, though every word was a struggle, like he was choking on his own guilt.
Hollis couldn’t breathe.The weight of his guilt pressed down on him, suffocating him with every breath he tried to take. His chest felt tight, as if the air had turned thick and heavy, and no matter how deeply he inhaled, it wasn’t enough. His hands trembled, clenching into fists at his sides, but the shaking wouldn’t stop. It was as if his body was betraying him, revealing the truth he couldn’t escape.The words he had spoken still lingered in the room, each syllable like a stone in his chest. "I killed her."He wanted to look away from the reflection of his misery in the window, but it was too much. His vision blurred, and his heart ached with a rawness that felt endless. He had spent so long trying to bury it—the guilt, the pain, the truth. He’d told himself that if he just kept moving and kept putting one foot in front of the other, it would eventually fade. But it didn’t. It never would.His voice cracked, hoarse from the strain of holding back tears. “I thought... I thought if
Hollis couldn’t breathe. He leaned against the doorframe, his chest tight, his breath shallow, like he was drowning in a sea of guilt that was rising faster than he could ever hope to escape.The weight of the words hung between them—"I killed her."His eyes burned as they blurred with tears that never seemed to fall. But the ache—the unbearable, unshakable ache deep in his chest—never went away. He had thought if he buried it enough, maybe he wouldn’t feel it. If he didn’t look too closely at the truth, maybe he could pretend that he wasn’t a monster. That he didn’t have blood on his hands.But that was all he ever felt now—the blood. The guilt that wrapped around him like a noose. And no matter how much he tried to push it away, no matter how hard he tried to keep his distance from everyone, especially his children, the truth was there. It was always there.His voice cracked as he forced himself to speak again, though every word was a struggle, like he was choking on his own guilt.
****Hailey****The air in the house was suffocating, pressing in from all sides like a heavy weight on my chest. I hadn’t expected to feel like this. I hadn’t expected anything, really. Hollis had walked out, leaving behind nothing but the echo of his words that hung in the air like a storm cloud. And I knew, in the pit of my stomach, that something had broken. But it wasn’t just my heart.It was everything.I sank into the couch, clutching a pillow to my chest, as if it could somehow shield me from the storm swirling inside me. Every breath felt shallow, every thought like it was coated in the sharp sting of the past few hours. What had just happened? What had I learned? Hollis’s grandfather—his presence had been like a blade, cutting through the walls I’d built around myself, leaving me exposed and raw. His words still echoed in my mind, cutting deeper with each passing second. And then that smile. That knowing, cold smile.It wasn’t just what he said. It was how he made me feel—lik
****Hailey****The air was thick with tension as I stood frozen in the doorway. The man on the porch didn’t belong in this world of warm lights and soft edges. His presence felt sharp, jagged, and entirely unwelcome.Hollis’s grandfather.He stood there, tall and unyielding, his sharp features chiseled with an air of authority that made my chest tighten. His piercing eyes swept over me with something too calculating to be mere curiosity.“Hailey,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue like a dark promise. “We need to talk."The words lodged in my throat as Hollis stepped in front of me, his broad shoulders blocking the older man from my view. The tension in his body was palpable, coiling like a spring about to snap.“You’re not welcome here,” Hollis growled, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.The older man chuckled, a sound that seemed to carry years of malice. “Is that any way to greet your family, boy?"“You’re not my family,” Hollis spat, his words cutting l
*****Hailey****The car hummed softly beneath us, the road slipping by in a blur of lights and shadows. My mind was still foggy from the meds, exhaustion dragging me under, but as we left the hospital behind, everything felt too sharp, too real. I was going home. But nothing about this home felt like it did before.Hollis sat beside me, his hand barely touching mine but enough to ground me. He hadn’t said much since we left the hospital. His silence was a weight that sat heavy between us, but I didn’t need him to speak. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was—about the life that had been torn apart, about the cracks we couldn’t fix. The questions that had no answers yet.The drive felt endless, the world outside blending together in a haze, like I was stuck in two worlds at once—one that nearly destroyed me and the one I was supposed to return to. I wasn’t the same person who’d left, and neither was he. Neither were his kids.When we finally pulled into the driveway, I could feel
****Hollis****The room was quiet—almost too quiet—except for the steady beep of the heart monitor beside the bed. It felt like the world outside had stopped, leaving just the two of us in this small, sterile space. Hailey was asleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath, but there was still a hint of tension in her face. I could see it, even in her sleep—the weight of everything that had happened, the unspoken pain that clung to her like a shadow. I couldn’t stop looking at her, though. Every time I thought about what she’d been through, it made something inside me tighten. This room had become both a sanctuary and a prison. In a way, I didn’t want it to end. But I knew it had to. She was about to be discharged. And that meant everything would be real again. Real in a way I wasn’t ready for. Lying with her in this small hospital bed, I wished I could freeze time and protect her from the world outside these walls. But I knew she was strong enough to face whatever came next
*****Hollis*****The hospital room was heavy, suffocating with silence that cut sharper than any scream. Hailey hadn’t spoken much since the day we lost everything. She stayed curled on her side, her back to me, staring at the wall like it held answers to questions she couldn’t voice.I sat beside her bed, my elbows resting on my knees, watching her. I didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t respond even if I did. But the weight in her eyes, the sharp edges of grief and rage, were deafening.Finally, she stirred, her voice breaking the quiet.“He did this."I straightened in my chair, her words slicing through the thick air between us.“Ben,” she said, her voice trembling with anger that barely held back the tears. “He took everything from me. My baby. My peace. Everything I fought to rebuild."Her hands clenched the blanket so tightly that her knuckles went white. When she turned her head to face me, the look in her eyes hit me like a freight train.“I hate him,” she hissed. “I hate that I
***Hailey****The room was suffocating, every breath tinged with the sterile sting of antiseptic, every corner thick with the oppressive weight of loss. I couldn’t seem to escape the constant hum of the machines, the feeling that time was moving, but I was stuck, suspended in a moment that stretched on forever. But then, a small voice cut through the quiet, a voice that always made my heart race with love.“Mommy?”It wasn’t just the sound of her voice that broke the stillness, but the urgency, the concern, the love. I snapped my head toward the door, and there she was—Summer. My little girl, her face framed by the doorway, her big brown eyes wide with worry. She was so small, yet she carried the weight of the world in those eyes. And right behind her, waddling with all the grace of a two-year-old, was Max, holding onto her hand like he didn’t quite know what was going on but was determined to follow her anyway.Summer’s eyes found mine instantly, and without a moment’s hesitation, sh
*****Hollis*****The soft click of the hospital door closing behind us barely registered in my mind. Hailey was sitting there, the pale hospital gown draped over her, her once vibrant eyes now dulled by grief and exhaustion. I couldn’t bear to see her like this, broken in a way that words could never quite describe. The pain that etched itself into her face, the way her body trembled as if it were carrying the weight of a thousand storms—it shattered me.I sat beside her, my heart aching at every flicker of emotion that passed across her face. She didn’t want the soup, I could tell. Her body, still recovering from the trauma, wasn’t ready to take in anything, but I needed her to eat. She needed to feel some kind of comfort, something to counter the all-consuming grief that had taken over. But I knew better than to push too hard. Hailey was not the kind of woman who could be forced into anything, especially when she was struggling like this.“Just one more spoonful,” I coaxed softly, t