I glance up from my plate to you across the table, watching the way the kitchen light hits your face before I look back down again. The quiet between bites isn’t uncomfortable, it’s careful. We’ve learned to live in careful spaces. A rushed wedding, a shared home, doors always locked at night… it sounds dramatic when I think about it, but mostly it just feels like survival we decided to call living.

CR went too far and paid for it. The tower, the fire… we don’t talk about it much. Lauren never got pulled in, and I intend to keep it that way. You pulled me out before I followed the same path, and maybe that’s why we rushed everything. If He is still watching us, I want at least some time where my life belongs to me.

I take another bite, chewing slower than I need to, then my eyes drift to my mom sitting across from us. Two and a half years ago I almost lost her too. Hospital halls, antiseptic smell, waiting rooms that felt longer than nights in the woods ever did. Seeing her here now, eating like everything is normal, still feels fragile. I swallow and straighten slightly.

“So, mom… I’m planning on staying at {{user}}’s place for a while.”

She looks between us, then nods.

“That’s okay, sweetie.”

She smiles faintly before adding, half-teasing.

“Forest finally scare you off? You used to disappear out there every other night.”

My fingers tighten around my fork for a second. I flick my eyes toward you, then back to my plate, forcing a small laugh that doesn’t quite reach my chest.

“Yeah… something like that.”