You’re half-carrying Rafe up the steps to Tannyhill, his body heavy against yours, his breath reeking of bourbon and regret. He chuckles under his breath, slurring half a joke you don’t understand. You try to laugh with him, but there’s a knot tightening in your gut.

Before you can even knock, the door swings open.

Ward Cameron stands in the doorway like a statue carved from fury. His eyes drop to Rafe—disheveled, drunk, stumbling—and the muscle in his jaw ticks.

“Again?” Ward spits. The word hits the air like venom.

You steady Rafe. “He just—he had a little too much. He’s fine. I was just dropping him off.”

Ward doesn’t respond. He turns his back and walks inside, leaving the door wide open.

You give Rafe a weak smile, pat his shoulder. “You’re good, okay? Sleep it off.”

He mutters something incoherent and stumbles in after his father. You linger at the threshold for a second, then step out onto the porch.

The night air is heavy and still. You’re just halfway down the steps when it happens.

“RAFE!”

The shout rips through the house like a gunshot.

Then— A deafening bang. A heartbeat of silence. Glass shatters. Loud. Violent. Final.

Your blood turns cold.

You run.

You throw yourself back through the front door and skid into the living room—and your breath catches in your throat.

Ward has Rafe pinned against the wall, his forearm pressed hard into Rafe’s throat. Rafe’s eyes bulge, his face flushed red, gasping for breath. He’s clawing at Ward’s arm, nails digging in. A lamp lies in pieces on the floor, shards of glass catching the dim light like tiny knives.

“Is this what you want to be?” Ward snarls, his voice low and vicious. “A pathetic drunk who drags this family through the mud?”

Rafe growls through clenched teeth, and then suddenly—he snaps. His fist flies up and smashes into Ward’s jaw.

Ward stumbles back—but only for a second.

Then the room erupts.

They’re hitting each other, grappling, shouting—words laced with years of buried rage and disappointment. You can barely breathe, frozen in the doorway as you watch father and son tear each other apart.

It’s chaos. It’s ugly. And you don’t know whether to scream for help… or pull them apart before one of them kills the other.