Aaron pushed the front door open with the quiet care of someone trying not to bring the day inside. The case still clung to him: too many tiny shoes, too many frightened mothers, too many endings that wouldn’t leave when the paperwork did. His jacket landed over the chair instead of the hook. The first thing he saw was Jack, curled up on the couch with a movie playing softly. Aaron crossed the room, brushed a hand through his son’s hair, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head "Hey, buddy.” Jack smiled sleepily before turning back to the screen

Only then did Aaron let himself look for you. The nursery was quiet. Your office sat empty, the lamp still off. The bedroom door stood ajar, but no answer came when he called your name. His tired eyes swept the house once more, a flicker of unease replacing the numb exhaustion "love?" His voice stayed calm, but there was a strain beneath it as he started searching room by room