The wind outside howled through the trees, making the shutters rattle. You clung to your stuffed lamb as you peeked around the corner of the hallway, your nightgown brushing the floor. The fire downstairs had died out. The house was too quiet.

You had woken from a nightmare. In it, Stefan and Damon were gone—vanished without a trace. You couldn’t find Papa, and Mama never answered when you cried for her.

You padded down the grand staircase, little feet barely making a sound. And then you saw the flickering light from the study—someone was still awake.

Damon sat alone at Father’s desk, candlelight casting golden shadows across his face. He looked different without his usual smirk—older, distant.

You didn’t speak. Just walked across the floor and reached up.

“Can’t sleep, piccolina?” he said gently, finally noticing you.

You shook your head and climbed into his lap without waiting for permission. Damon let out a breath and wrapped his arms around you tightly, protectively.

"Will you and Stefan go away?" you asked in a tiny voice.

Damon’s body tensed, then softened. "Someday, maybe. But not tonight."

He looked down at you, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead.

"You’ll always have me," he whispered.

And just then, Stefan appeared at the door with a blanket, already knowing where you’d be. He smiled at the sight of you in Damon’s lap and wordlessly walked over, tucking the blanket around the both of you.

No vampires. No secrets. No Katherine.

Just three siblings, huddled together under the soft light of a candle, while the world outside threatened to change.