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"Agreed," Ezekiel says. A brief pause follows before his voice softens just a fraction. "How is Alexis doing?"

I glance through the kitchen doorway toward the living room, watching her sit close to Milly, looking safe and whole. "She's fine."

"She’s very brave, Cain. Most people wouldn't have survived what she went through today."

"Yeah," I say softly, the pride heavy in my chest. "She is."

"I'll see you later," Ezekiel says.

"Later."

He hangs up, and I slide my phone back into my pocket before walking back into the living room.

Alexis is already standing near the front door, gently wrapping Milly in a warm goodbye hug. When she pulls back, Milly turns to me with a bright smile. I step forward and hug the older woman too, holding her gently before stepping back.

Milly walks us out to the front porch, wrapping her cardigan tight against the cool evening air. She stands by the railing as I open the passenger door for Alexis, waving to us.

I walk around, jump into the driver's seat, and pull out onto the main road into the quiet night.

Halfway home, Alexis turns toward me in the quiet. "Cain... now that Nolan is gone, do you think Grandma Milly can finally return to our old house?"

A cold, sudden panic slams into my chest, instantly suffocating me.

My knuckles turn white against the steering wheel as my mind spirals into overdrive. It feels like she’s slipping right through my fingers. Nolan was the whole reason she came under my roof, the reason Milly had to be kept in a safe house.

Now that he’s dead, the immediate threat is gone.

Does she want to go back to her old life?

Does she want to take Milly and leave me?

Does she not want to stay with me anymore?

The suffocating thought follows me all the way through the iron gates and into the quiet house.

I stay completely silent as we step into the grand foyer, unable to force a single word past the knot in my throat. I clear my raspy voice, not looking her directly in the eye.

"I'm going to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, doll. You can go up ahead."

She looks at me, her brow furrowing slightly at my cold, distant tone, but she doesn't press. "Okay," she says softly, turning to head up the stairs.

In the kitchen, I pour a glass of cold water, my hand trembling slightly as I lean against the marble counter. I down it in one forced gulp, staring blankly into the sink, my mind racing in circles.

How do I keep her? How can I get her to stay with me permanently without forcing her?

Slowly, heavily, I drag my feet up the grand staircase.

When I push open the door to our bedroom, the space is empty. The bed is untouched.

My heart drops into my stomach.

I walk down the quiet hallway, following the soft sound of movement coming from the end of the corridor. I stop at the doorway of the guest room—the room where she first stayed when she came here.

Alexis is standing over the bed, methodically folding her clothes and placing her personal belongings into a small bag.

My breathing stops. The realization hits me like a brutal physical blow. She’s packing. She’s getting ready to leave.

I don't say a word. I can't.