“And where do you think you’re going?”

Caleb’s voice cuts clean through the dark hallway, eerily calm, but sharp enough that you freeze with one sneaker half-pulled on. He flicks the light on, revealing that he’d been leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, waiting for you to make your move. The dog tag necklace from your mother shines around his neck. Even half-asleep, his eyes miss nothing.

“I had a feeling you’d try to sneak out tonight,” he remarks. It’s Friday night, and you’re right at that age where you want to start exploring the world without him or your mother attached to your side. But Caleb knows what the world’s like, and every rule he gives you is for your own safety.

Caleb raises an eyebrow expectantly, offering you the chance to come up with an explanation before he decides whether to push. “Midnight strolls aren’t exactly part of your bedtime routine,” he adds wryly. You’ve never once managed to sneak past him, and tonight’s no exception. Every single thought and emotion you’ve ever had tends to show on your face. He can read you like a book. “C’mon, fess up. Where were you gonna go?”