The Touch - Rewrite

Natalie and Greg played host to my brother and me that night, and walking back through their front door felt strangely comforting. The house smelled like laundry detergent and whatever candle Natalie had decided to light that week, and Toby’s shoes were already abandoned in the middle of the living room like always. It was familiar in a way that made something inside me settle. Even after finding my real family, this place still felt safe. Greg and Natalie had given me that long before I even knew where I belonged.

The moment we stepped inside, Natalie was already in full mom-mode, ushering all four of us boys toward the hallway before we could even properly settle in.

“Go get changed out of those nice clothes before one of you spills something on them,” she instructed as she pointed toward the stairs. “Greg is ordering dinner, and I’m not dealing with stains tonight.”

Toby groaned dramatically and flopped halfway against the wall like he had been handed the worst punishment imaginable.

“But I like this shirt,” he complained.

Natalie gave him a look.

“Tobias.”

“I’m going,” he muttered quickly before sprinting toward the stairs, Gavin following behind him with a quiet laugh.

Kyan bumped his shoulder lightly into mine as we followed after them.

“Come on, baby brother. Before she decides to dress us herself.”

“That sounds terrifying,” I admitted.

“It should.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as we made our way upstairs. The tension from the concert and everything that had happened afterward was still sitting somewhere deep in my chest, but being here—back in the familiar warmth of Greg and Natalie’s house—made it easier to breathe.

Once we were changed into shorts and t-shirts, Toby immediately conned Gavin into playing Mario Kart downstairs. I could hear the younger boy already shouting about how he was definitely going to win before we even made it back to my room.

That left Kyan and me alone.

He walked in like he owned the place, dropped onto the edge of my bed for all of two seconds, then stood back up and turned on the television sitting on my dresser before making his way toward my closet like he had a mission.

I frowned as I watched him start pulling hangers aside.

“What are you doing?” I asked nervously.

“It’s time to start going through your stuff, Zyan,” he said casually, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “We need to decide what you’re taking home with you tomorrow.”

I froze for a moment, my hands stilling at my sides.

Home.

Not Greg and Natalie’s house.

Home.

The word alone was enough to make something warm spread through my chest. I couldn’t stop the small smile that followed, and before I even realized I was moving, I was stepping over to help him.

“Good thing Toby isn’t in here,” Kyan said as he started sorting through the shirts hanging in the closet.

“Why?” I asked as I reached for a stack of folded jeans on the shelf above me.

“Because I’m pretty sure he’d be purposely trying to distract you from doing this,” Kyan replied with a grin. He motioned toward the growing pile of clothes we were already stacking near the door. “That kid would absolutely start a fake emergency just to keep you from packing.”

I laughed softly, but it didn’t last very long. The moment Toby’s name settled between us, I found myself thinking about him downstairs. He had been quieter than usual after the concert. Still smiling, still glued to everyone’s side like always, but there had been something underneath it. Something heavier.

I frowned as I folded one of my shirts.

“He’s upset,” I said quietly.

Kyan slowed for a moment before nodding.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “He is.”

I stared down at the shirt in my hands, smoothing wrinkles that didn’t need fixing.

“I don’t want him to think I’m leaving him.”

“He doesn’t,” Kyan said firmly. “And Natalie and Greg already have a plan in place to handle the situation.”

That made me look up.

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“Nope,” he said immediately.

I narrowed my eyes.

“Not even a hint?”

He turned and gave me the most smug grin I had ever seen.

“Not even a tiny one.”

“Rude.”

“Very.”

I tried to glare at him, but it didn’t last long before he laughed and stepped forward, pulling me into one of his sudden, too-tight hugs.

“You’ll love it, Zyan,” he said quietly against the top of my head. “I promise.”

I relaxed into it despite myself.

“If you say so…”

“I do say so,” he replied. “And since I’m obviously the smarter twin, you should trust me.”

I pulled back enough to look at him.

“You’re older by like… fifteen minutes.”

“Exactly. Wisdom.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“It absolutely is.”

I laughed again, softer this time, and we went back to sorting through my closet.

It turned out I had more stuff than I realized. Natalie had bought me clothes almost every other week since January, especially after growth spurts or when Toby convinced her I needed something ridiculous. There were hoodies I had forgotten about, school clothes, pajama pants, and at least three shirts I was pretty sure Toby had stolen and returned at random.

Kyan held one up that had bright cartoon dinosaurs all over it.

“What is this?”

I groaned immediately.

“Toby.”

“Why do you own it?”

“He cried in Target.”

Kyan stared at me.

“You lost to a six-year-old in Target?”

“He weaponized tears.”

“Honestly? Fair.”

That made both of us laugh, and for a little while, everything stopped feeling so heavy. It didn’t feel like I was packing up one life to move into another. It didn’t feel like I was standing between two families, trying to figure out where I belonged most. It just felt normal.

It felt like brothers standing in a messy room arguing over dinosaur shirts and deciding what belonged where. It felt like teasing and laughter and the kind of quiet comfort I used to think only happened to other people. For so long, I hadn’t believed I would ever have something like this. Not the easy laughter. Not the teasing. Not someone calling me home and meaning it.

I had spent so much of my life trying to survive that I never really let myself imagine what it would feel like to belong somewhere. Now I was standing in the middle of that possibility, and somehow that was almost scarier than being alone had ever been.

I folded another shirt slowly, staring down at it for a moment before placing it on the growing pile near the door. Tomorrow, I would go back to my parents’ house. Tomorrow, I would start figuring out what living there really meant. Tomorrow, I would stop being a guest and start trying to be part of that family in a real way.

At least, I hoped I would.

Kyan must have noticed the shift in my expression because he bumped his shoulder lightly into mine.

“Hey,” he said.

I looked over.

“Don’t overthink it.”

“I wasn’t.”

He gave me a look.

“You were absolutely overthinking it.”

I sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing my hands over my face for a second before looking back up at him.

“What if I mess it up?”

He didn’t even hesitate.

“You won’t.”

“But what if—”

“You won’t,” he repeated, firmer this time. “Because they’ve spent ten years waiting for you, Zyan. You could set dad’s office on fire and mom would still kiss your forehead and ask if you wanted pancakes.”

I blinked.

“That feels weirdly specific.”

He shrugged like that proved his point.

“I’m just saying. You’re stuck with us now.”

The words settled somewhere deep inside me.

Stuck with us.

Not temporary. Not conditional. Not something I had to earn by being good enough or quiet enough or easy enough to keep around. They wanted me here. My parents wanted me there. Greg and Natalie still wanted me here. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t being passed around like a problem someone else had to solve.

I belonged.

Maybe I didn’t fully know how to believe that yet, but I was starting to.

I looked around my room—the clothes stacked near the closet, the familiar posters on the wall, the bed I had slept in for months, and my brother standing there like he had always been there and always would be.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

“Good,” I said quietly.

Kyan smiled back and tossed a hoodie directly at my face.

“Good. Now keep packing before I make you wear the dinosaur shirt home tomorrow.”

I shoved the hoodie away.

“Threats aren’t very brotherly.”

“Neither is stealing the last slice of pizza and pretending you didn’t know I wanted it.”

I froze.

“That was one time.”

“Three times,” Kyan corrected immediately. “And I have witnesses.”

“You can’t prove anything.”

His grin widened, completely unapologetic as he tossed another shirt onto the growing pile by the door.

“Proof that I’m the superior twin,” he said smugly. “Better memory. Better hair. Better everything.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling anyway.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will,” he replied easily before grabbing another shirt from the closet and tossing it toward me. “Now fold that before I tell mom you’re secretly a pizza thief.”

I caught the shirt and laughed under my breath.

Once we had finished with dinner, Natalie had Toby pick out a movie for all of us to watch while Greg started getting ready for bed. It wasn’t even that late yet, but Greg had to work early the next morning, and everyone in the house knew better than to interrupt his very serious “old man bedtime routine,” as Kyan liked to call it.

Toby, of course, took his responsibility of choosing the movie far too seriously.

He stood in front of the television with the remote clutched in both hands like it was some kind of sacred object, squinting suspiciously at every title like the fate of the world depended on his decision.

“If you pick Frozen again,” Gavin warned from the couch, “I’m leaving.”

Toby gasped dramatically.

“You said you liked Olaf!”

“I was trying to be supportive,” Gavin replied.

“That sounds fake.”

“It was fake.”

Toby turned toward me with narrowed eyes.

“Zyan, tell him Olaf is funny.”

I was already smiling.

“Olaf is funny.”

Toby pointed at Gavin like that settled the argument forever.

“See? Democracy.”

“That is not how democracy works,” Kyan muttered from beside me.

Toby ignored him completely and finally selected some animated movie none of us had seen before. The opening music had barely started before Greg came downstairs in pajama pants and a t-shirt, looking tired enough that even Toby gave him a little sympathy.

“It’s not fair that I have to work in the morning,” Greg said with an exaggerated pout as he walked into the living room.

Toby immediately launched himself off the couch and into Greg’s arms.

“Daddy!” he squealed in delight.

Greg caught him easily, laughing as Toby wrapped himself around him like a monkey.

“Yep,” Greg said, kissing the top of his head. “Still me.”

Gavin stood next, and Greg pulled both boys into a tight hug that made Toby giggle and Gavin pretend he wasn’t smiling.

Then Greg made his way over to Kyan first, pulling him into a quick hug before turning to me.

The second his arms wrapped around me, I felt some of the nervousness I’d been carrying settle again. Greg had always been solid like that. Calm. Safe. Steady.

“You’re probably going to be gone before I get home tomorrow, buddy,” he said quietly, only loud enough for me to hear. “I’ll be there Wednesday afternoon to pick you back up, though.”

Something about that made my chest tighten.

I didn’t want to leave them.

I didn’t want to leave my parents either.

Somehow, I had ended up with too many people to miss all at once.

“Okay, Greg,” I said, trying not to sound as sad as I felt. “Don’t forget about me, though.”

Greg pulled back just enough to look at me like I’d said something ridiculous.

“I could never forget about you, Zyan,” he said before kissing my cheek. “I’ll see you Wednesday. Maybe we can go watch a movie or something. Just us.”

“I’d like that,” I admitted with a small grin.

“Me too, buddy.”

He squeezed my shoulder once before setting me back on the couch.

Greg gave Natalie a quick kiss, whispered something that made her smile, and then headed upstairs while Toby shouted dramatic goodnights after him like he was leaving for war instead of going to bed.

The second Greg disappeared, Kyan slipped his arm around me and pulled me into his side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Toby and Gavin piled into Natalie’s side at the same time, creating a tangled mess of limbs, blankets, and stolen couch space.

Natalie sighed dramatically.

“I carried all of you for nine months each and this is the thanks I get.”

“You did not,” Gavin said immediately. “I’m your nephew, Toby is your adoptive son, and Zyan is your foster son.”

Natalie laughed and kissed the top of Toby’s head.

“Details.”

I laughed quietly and settled in.

The movie played in the background, but I barely followed most of it. Toby kept asking questions every five minutes, Gavin kept pretending to be annoyed even though he answered every single one, and Kyan kept stealing the popcorn bowl and holding it just out of Toby’s reach until the younger boy started whining loud enough for Natalie to threaten everyone equally.

It was chaos.

Loud, ridiculous, happy chaos.

And I loved it.

As I sat there, tucked against Kyan’s side with the glow of the television flickering across the room, I realized this was the part I wanted to remember. Not the fear. Not the panic attacks. Not the nights where the darkness felt like it was swallowing me whole. Not the Monster and all the things he had convinced me to believe about myself.

I wanted to remember this.

A couch that was far too full because nobody wanted to sit anywhere else.

Toby whining because Kyan kept stealing the popcorn.

Gavin trying and failing to act like he wasn’t laughing.

Natalie threatening everyone with bedtime like she actually meant it.

Kyan beside me, warm and solid and real, laughing like he had never spent ten years missing half of himself.

This was what mattered.

This was what felt like healing.

A family.

More than one, somehow.

And for the first time in my life, that didn’t feel confusing.

It felt like maybe I had finally found where I belonged.

I let myself hold onto that feeling as the movie played on, quietly storing it away like something precious. Maybe if I collected enough moments like this, they would be strong enough to keep the darkness away when it came back. Maybe happy memories could fight harder than nightmares.

By the time the credits rolled, Toby was fully asleep with one hand still shoved into the popcorn bowl. Gavin wasn’t far behind, blinking slowly like he was trying to stay awake out of pure stubbornness.

Natalie smiled softly as she stood up.

“Alright, gremlins. Time for bed.”

Kyan snorted.

“We’re twelve, Natalie.”

“And still gremlins.”

“Also fair.”

He stood up first and stretched dramatically before turning and offering me his hand so he could pull me up from the couch.

I took it, and he yanked hard enough to make me stumble into him on purpose.

“Rude,” I muttered.

“Very,” he replied with a grin.

I shook my head, but I was smiling anyway.

Tomorrow I would go back to my parents’ house. Tomorrow I would start figuring out what living there full-time was supposed to look like. It would probably be awkward and emotional and overwhelming in ways I wasn’t ready for yet.

But standing there in Greg and Natalie’s living room, with Toby snoring on the couch, Gavin half-asleep beside him, and Kyan refusing to let go of my hand like I might disappear if he did, I realized something important.

Leaving this house didn’t mean losing it.

Greg and Natalie weren’t disappearing.

Neither was Toby.

I wasn’t being taken away.

I was just being loved in more places than I knew what to do with.

That thought stayed with me as Kyan dragged me upstairs and Natalie shouted after us to brush our teeth.

Natalie made breakfast for all of us the next morning before she helped me start sorting through more of my things while Kyan and Gavin kept Toby distracted downstairs. I could hear the younger boy arguing loudly about cereal from all the way upstairs, followed by Gavin telling him that marshmallows did not count as a balanced breakfast.

It made me smile.

Natalie stood in the middle of my room with her hands on her hips, looking over the piles of clothes, books, and random things that had somehow accumulated over the past few months.

“Remember,” she said softly as she folded one of my hoodies and placed it neatly into the keep pile, “this doesn’t all have to happen today, Zyan. You can take as much time as you need to move everything out.”

I sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bed, staring at the different stacks we had made. There was more here than I realized. More proof that this place had become mine than I had really let myself think about.

I ran my fingers over the edge of an old t-shirt before I looked up at her.

“What if I don’t want to take all of it with me?”

Natalie paused and turned toward me.

“What do you mean?”

I hesitated for a moment, suddenly nervous.

“I don’t mean keeping it for myself,” I said quickly. “I mean… what if you kept some of it here? For the next foster kid.”

Natalie blinked at me for a second before her entire expression softened.

I rushed to explain before she could say anything.

“Like… some of the clothes and stuff. There’s a lot here, and if another kid comes here and they don’t have anything…” I swallowed nervously. “Maybe they could use some of it.”

For a moment, she just looked at me.

Then Natalie smiled—one of those real smiles that always made me feel like I had done something right.

“That’s a great idea, Zyan,” she said proudly. “That’s actually a really wonderful idea.”

I felt my face heat up immediately.

“Oh.”

She laughed softly and came over to sit beside me on the floor.

“Don’t sound so surprised, sweetheart. You’re allowed to have good ideas.”

I smiled a little.

“I just thought… someone might need it more.”

Natalie reached over and brushed my hair back from my forehead before kissing the top of my head.

“That’s exactly why Greg and I love you.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

I looked down quickly, blinking against the sudden sting in my eyes.

Natalie noticed, of course. She always did.

She shifted and gently pulled me over until I was leaning against her side.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “None of that.”

“I’m okay,” I mumbled.

“Mhm. Sure.”

I let out a weak laugh, and she hugged me tighter.

After a few quiet minutes of sorting through the last of the clothes, Natalie finally pulled me up onto the bed beside her. Her expression shifted slightly, and I knew immediately that this was one of those serious conversations adults liked to spring on you when you least expected it.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked with a small smile.

I nodded and leaned into her side automatically.

“Of course, Natalie.”

She kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back for a moment before she spoke.

“Zyan, no matter what happens to you in the future, and no matter where your life winds up leading you, you will always have a bed waiting for you in our home.”

I froze.

Natalie kept going, her voice soft and steady.

“I know you’ve been through a lot. More than anybody your age should ever have had to handle. When Greg and I brought you home in January, you were shy, frail, quiet, and scared of everything. You had every reason to be.”

I tensed automatically, and she immediately squeezed me.

“Nothing I’m saying is bad,” she reassured me quickly. “Trust me.”

I nodded against her shoulder.

“Greg and I think of you as our son, Zyan,” she continued. “We always will. We love you. We will always love you. And no matter where you live, or how old you get, or what changes… that doesn’t stop.”

I couldn’t speak.

I could barely breathe around the knot building in my throat.

Natalie smiled sadly and wiped a tear off my cheek before it could fall.

“We want you in Toby’s life,” she said. “We want you in ours. We don’t care if you’re living with your parents now. You’re still ours too.”

“I’m going to be…” I started, but Natalie gently pressed her finger to my lips.

“Let me finish.”

I blushed immediately and nodded.

She smiled and poked my side.

“Now, Greg and I have been talking,” she said, “and we’ve decided that we’re going to move to Lakeside.”

I sat straight up so fast I nearly headbutted her.

“What?”

I stared at her.

“Are you serious?”

She laughed.

“Yes.”

“Really serious?”

“Yes.”

I threw my arms around her so fast she almost fell backward.

“Does Toby know? What about Greg’s job? Are you still going to foster another kid? When? Are you actually serious?”

Natalie laughed harder as I fired questions at her faster than I could think.

“Relax, Zyan,” she said, pushing me backward onto the bed before I could keep going. “You’ll get your answers.”

I was still staring at her in shock.

“Toby has been very involved in the discussion,” she explained. “He already knows. That’s why I had Gavin and Kyan keeping him distracted—because he absolutely would have ruined the surprise.”

“That sounds accurate.”

“Extremely.”

She smiled and glanced around the room again.

“Now, I should probably call Greg and have him grab some boxes on his way home.”

That made something in my chest tighten again.

Not in a bad way.

Just… big.

Too big for words.

I leaned back into her side and stared at the ceiling for a moment before I finally found my voice.

“I love you, Natalie.”

She didn’t hesitate.

“I love you too, Zyan.”

And for the first time since all of this had started—since finding my parents, since trying to figure out where I belonged, since wondering what I was supposed to be to all these people—I realized maybe I didn’t have to choose.

Maybe love didn’t work like that.

Maybe families could grow instead of replace.

Maybe I was allowed to keep every person who had fought to keep me alive.

I hoped that was true.

Because I didn’t think I could survive losing any of them.

My mother arrived promptly at three to pick up me and my brother, and she barely made it through the front door before she was pulling both of us into hugs like she hadn’t seen us in months instead of since the night before.

“There are my boys,” she said dramatically as she kissed both of our cheeks. “I was beginning to think Natalie had decided to keep you.”

“She tried,” Kyan said seriously. “I barely escaped with my life.”

Natalie, standing in the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed, rolled her eyes.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I knew it,” Kyan replied, pointing accusingly.

I laughed quietly as my mother kissed my forehead and smoothed my hair back like she was checking to make sure I was still actually there.

“Did you behave?” she asked me.

Before I could answer, Kyan answered for me.

“No.”

“Rude,” I muttered.

Natalie and my mother laughed.

While my mother sat down with Natalie in the dining room to talk for a few minutes, Gavin and Toby helped me carry my things outside to the car. Between the clothes, books, and all the random things Natalie insisted I take with me, we managed to fill most of the trunk before there wasn’t enough room left for anything else.

Toby took his job very seriously, carrying one tiny bag like it weighed a hundred pounds.

“I’m helping,” he announced proudly.

“You’re doing amazing,” I told him.

“I know.”

Gavin snorted and reached over to fix the way Toby was holding the bag before everything spilled across the driveway.

When there was finally nothing left to move, my mother gave the trunk one approving glance before turning toward me.

“Perfect,” she said. “Now go say goodbye to Natalie before I steal you.”

The words made my chest tighten.

I nodded and walked back inside, where Natalie was already waiting near the front door like she knew exactly what I needed before I did.

The second I got close enough, she opened her arms and I walked right into them.

She hugged me tightly, one hand rubbing slowly across my back while I tried very hard not to cry over leaving for less than a week.

“I’ll see you Wednesday, Zyan,” she said with a smile as she pulled back enough to kiss my cheek. “Five whole days. Try not to forget me.”

I sniffled and shook my head.

“I could never forget you.”

“Good answer.”

She smiled and kissed my forehead this time.

“And if your mother feeds you too much sugar and sends you back completely feral, I’m blaming her.”

“She already does that,” Kyan called from outside.

“I heard that!” my mother shouted from the driveway.

Natalie laughed softly and set me back on my feet.

“Behave, boys.”

“We will, Natalie!” Kyan answered immediately.

“That was suspiciously fast,” she replied.

“It’s called confidence.”

“It’s called lying.”

I smiled again, even though my throat still felt tight.

Before I could make it to the door, Toby and Gavin pounced on both Kyan and me like they had been waiting for the perfect dramatic moment.

Toby wrapped himself around my middle and squeezed as hard as he could.

“You better come back,” he mumbled.

My heart cracked a little.

I knelt down enough to hug him properly, holding him tight.

“I’m coming back,” I promised quietly. “You’re only stuck with me being gone for a few days. Then I’ll be right back.”

“That’s too long.”

“I know.”

“You should just stay here.”

Part of me wanted to.

But I kissed the top of his head and smiled anyway.

“I’ll still be here, Toby. I promise.”

He nodded against me, but I could hear the wobble in his breathing.

Gavin hugged me next, tighter than usual.

“Don’t let your brother turn you weird,” he said quietly.

“Too late,” Kyan answered from beside us.

That made Gavin laugh, and for a second, it felt easier.

But when Toby sniffled again and quickly wiped at his face, I felt my own eyes start burning.

He stood on the porch waving at me while Gavin gently guided him back toward the front door. I waved back, trying to smile even though it hurt.

The door closed behind them.

Kyan cleared his throat beside me.

“It’ll be okay, Zyan,” he said quietly. “You’ll see them again before you know it. Five days isn’t forever.”

I looked over at him and shook my head.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

His expression softened immediately.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

I slipped into the backseat of my mom’s sedan while Kyan climbed in beside me. My mother started the car, and for most of the drive home, Kyan talked enough for all three of us while I stayed quiet and watched the houses pass by outside the window.

All I could think about during the drive home was Toby.

The way he had clung to me at the front door replayed over and over in my head. The way his little hands had held onto my shirt like if he let go, I might disappear forever. The way his voice had wobbled when he told me I better come back. He had tried so hard to be brave, but I knew him too well. I knew exactly how scared he had been.

And the worst part was that I understood it.

I knew what it felt like to be terrified that someone you loved wasn’t coming back. I knew what it was like to wait and wonder if you had been left behind again. I hated that Toby felt even a small piece of that fear because of me. He was too young to carry something like that. He deserved security. He deserved certainty. He deserved to know that the people he loved weren’t just going to vanish.

I pressed my forehead lightly against the car window and watched the houses blur past outside.

Five days.

It wasn’t that long.

But when you were little and scared, five days could feel like forever.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, Sarah was already waiting by the back door like she had been standing there watching for us the entire time. The second I stepped out of the car, she came flying toward me and wrapped me in an enthusiastic hug that nearly knocked me backward.

“There you are!” she announced dramatically.

I laughed in surprise as she squeezed me tight.

“What are you doing?” I asked nervously as she grabbed my hand like she had somewhere very important to be.

“I’m showing you the piano, baby brother,” she said with a grin.

“Oh.”

That was apparently the only intelligent response I could come up with.

I followed her through the house while Kyan and my mother laughed behind us. Sarah pulled me along like she was afraid I might somehow escape if she let go.

She led me into one of the antique-filled rooms near the center of the house, and I stopped dead the second I saw it.

A shiny black grand piano sat in the middle of the room like it belonged in a concert hall instead of a house. The polished surface reflected the warm light from the chandelier above it, and everything around it seemed to disappear the moment I looked at it.

Ancient tapestries covered the walls, and above the old stone fireplace hung a large painting of an older man with silver hair and bright blue eyes. Something about the portrait made me pause for half a second, but my attention was stolen almost immediately by the piano again.

It was beautiful.

“You can play it whenever you want, baby brother,” Sarah said softly, pulling my attention back to her. “I promise mom and dad won’t care in the slightest.”

I turned and looked at her like she had just handed me the moon.

“Really?”

Sarah smiled and nodded without hesitation.

“Really.”

I stepped closer to the piano, almost afraid to touch it, like if I got too close someone might tell me it wasn’t actually for me. My fingers hovered just above the polished edge of it as I stared at the keys.

It wasn’t just a piano.

It was permission.

It was belonging.

It was someone looking at me and saying this house is yours too.

It was proof that maybe I wasn’t just visiting. Maybe I wasn’t just some broken thing they were trying to fix before deciding whether to keep me. Maybe I was actually part of this family.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

Sarah saw it immediately and smiled right back.

“Thought so,” she said softly.

She let me stand there for another quiet moment before gently taking my hand again.

“Come on,” she said. “Everyone’s in the dining room, and if we leave dad alone too long, he starts pretending he’s starving to death.”

“That sounds dramatic.”

“It is dramatic,” she replied with a laugh.

She led me back toward the rest of the family, and for the rest of the evening, we sat together in the quiet kind of peace that didn’t need much talking.

It felt a lot like the night before at Greg and Natalie’s house.

Safe.

Warm.

Easy.

At some point, I ended up curled against Kyan on the couch while my parents talked quietly nearby and Sarah kept trying to convince Dad that she deserved more allowance for what she called “emotional damages.”

Dad insisted she was being dramatic.

Sarah insisted she had inherited that trait from him.

Mom agreed with Sarah.

I remember laughing at that, and I remember Kyan muttering that he wanted to be excluded from the entire conversation because he valued his peace. I remember my father threatening to write him out of the will, and Kyan dramatically informing him that he was already planning to contest it.

Somewhere in the middle of all of it, with everyone talking and laughing around me, I must have fallen asleep.

The next thing I remember was waking just enough to feel my mother lifting me into her arms. I was too tired to really open my eyes, but I knew it was her immediately by the way she held me and the soft floral scent of her shirt.

She carried me upstairs like I weighed nothing at all, one arm under my knees and the other around my back, like she had done it a thousand times before instead of for the first time in ten years.

I heard her whisper something softly, but I was too deep in sleep to catch all of it. I only caught pieces.

“My sweet boy…”

“…finally home…”

“…never letting go again…”

I wanted to answer her, but sleep was heavier than I was.

Then I felt the mattress beneath me.

The blanket was pulled up carefully around my shoulders, tucked in like I might drift away if she didn’t make sure I stayed. Her fingers brushed my hair back from my forehead, and then I felt the soft press of her lips against my skin.

Even half asleep, I smiled.

And right before sleep pulled me under completely again, I heard her whisper one last thing.

“Welcome home, baby boy.”

I sat up in bed in a cold sweat, my chest rising too fast as I tried to catch my breath. For a few disoriented seconds, I had no idea where I was. The room was dark except for the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains, and my heart was pounding so hard it made my ribs ache.

Then I heard it.

Kyan snoring beside me.

Soft. Steady. Familiar.

I looked over and saw him sprawled across the bed like he had claimed half the mattress in his sleep and had no intention of apologizing for it. Just seeing him there helped pull me back down from the edge of whatever had dragged me awake.

I took a few slow breaths and pressed the heel of my hand against my chest until my heartbeat started to calm.

I was home.

I was safe.

Sleep wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

I carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake Kyan, and padded quietly across the room. I was only wearing my shorts, but I didn’t care. The house was quiet and dark as I stepped into the hallway, the kind of silence that only existed in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep.

I stopped in the bathroom first, relieving myself before making my way downstairs toward the kitchen.

The house felt different at night. Softer somehow. Less like a place I was still learning and more like something warm and still, waiting for morning.

When I opened the refrigerator, the sudden burst of light made me squint. I spotted the bottles of water in the bottom of the door and grabbed one quickly. My medication always left my mouth painfully dry, and after waking up like that, it felt even worse.

I twisted the cap off and drank greedily, barely stopping to breathe. By the time I lowered the bottle, I had already finished nearly half of it.

“Hey, buddy.”

I jumped so hard I nearly dropped the bottle again.

I spun around with a startled noise, and my father stood there in the dim kitchen light wearing sleep pants and a t-shirt, looking far too amused with himself.

He started laughing immediately.

“Sorry, Zyan,” he said as he stepped closer. “I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t scare you.”

“That didn’t work,” I said with a nervous laugh, still trying to slow my heart down.

“No, I can see that.”

He reached down, picked up the bottle cap I had fumbled onto the floor, and handed it to me before pulling me into a hug like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I melted into it instantly.

His arms were warm and solid around me, and for a moment, all the leftover panic from waking up just drained out of me.

“Better?” he asked softly.

“A little.”

He kissed the top of my head.

“Good.”

Then he leaned back just enough to look at the bottle in my hand.

“Damn, kid. You drank half the bottle in one go.”

“I was thirsty,” I mumbled, already blushing.

Dad chuckled softly, reached up, and ruffled my hair before stealing the bottle from my hand.

He took a quick drink for himself, still grinning, and then handed it back before scooping me up into his arms like I weighed absolutely nothing.

I blinked in surprise.

“Dad—”

“Come on,” he said with a smile like this was completely normal. “I’m taking you back to bed.”

“I can walk.”

“I know. I’m choosing not to let you.”

I couldn’t help laughing as I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him carry me anyway.

“I’ve wanted to tuck you in for days now,” he admitted as he carried me through the quiet house. “But your mother keeps beating me to it.”

I rested my head against his shoulder and sighed softly. I could feel the warmth of him through his shirt, steady and safe, and it made something in my chest loosen.

My father was carrying me upstairs like I was still little.

And somehow, instead of feeling embarrassed, it just made me feel loved.

I kissed his cheek quietly.

He smiled but didn’t say anything, just held me a little tighter.

We heard Kyan snoring lightly the second we stepped back into the bedroom. Dad laughed under his breath as he crossed the room and carefully set me back on my feet beside the bed.

I climbed back under the thick comforter, and Dad pulled it up carefully to my neck like my mother had done earlier. He smoothed my hair back from my forehead before leaning down to kiss me there.

“I love you, Zyan.”

The words still hit me every single time.

I smiled sleepily up at him.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

His expression softened so much it made my chest hurt a little.

“Get some rest, baby boy,” he said quietly. “I still have another birthday gift to give you tomorrow morning.”

I blinked up at him.

“Another one?”

Between the room, the clothes, the gaming system, and everything else, I didn’t know what else there could possibly be.

Dad smiled mysteriously.

“This one is special. It’s something each of you gets on your birthday.”

I frowned.

“What is it?”

He shook his head.

“No more questions.”

“That’s rude.”

“That’s parenting.”

I giggled quietly and shifted deeper into the blankets.

Dad stayed sitting on the edge of the bed instead of leaving. Every few moments, he would lean forward and kiss my forehead or the tip of my nose like he was making up for ten years all at once.

Sometimes he would just stare at me.

Not in a bad way.

More like he still couldn’t believe I was actually there.

Like if he looked away too long, I might disappear again.

At some point, half asleep, I whispered the thought that had been sitting in my chest since Friday.

“I feel like it’s a dream too.”

Dad went very still.

For a moment, I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me.

Then I heard him sniff quietly.

His hand brushed gently through my hair.

“I know,” he whispered.

That was the last thing I remembered before sleep pulled me under again.

Somewhere between dreaming and waking, I vaguely remember puppies.

A lot of puppies.

I woke up later to find Kyan’s side of the bed empty.

For a second, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, still half asleep, trying to figure out what had pulled me awake. Sunlight poured through the window in warm golden strips, and when I finally turned my head to look at the clock on the nightstand, I saw it was almost ten in the morning.

I stretched out across the bed for another minute, enjoying the softness of the blankets and the quiet stillness of the house, until my bladder reminded me that I needed to move.

With a groan, I dragged myself out of bed and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before heading to the bathroom. I turned the shower on first so the water could warm up while I took care of what I needed to. Afterward, I grabbed a towel from the closet and hung it on the rack beside the shower before stepping out of my underwear and climbing into the hot water.

I took my time washing up.

The steam helped clear the last bit of sleep from my head while my thoughts drifted back to the concert and everything that had happened afterward. Professor Waterson wanting me to join the orchestra still didn’t feel real. I kept replaying the moment in my head, trying to decide if I had imagined it.

Then my eyes dropped to the scars on my chest.

For a moment, I just stared at them.

I scrubbed harder than I needed to, wishing stupidly that maybe if I tried hard enough, they would disappear. Of course, they didn’t. All I managed to do was make my skin red and sore.

Eventually, I gave up and rinsed off.

Once I was dressed, I headed downstairs expecting to find my mother in the kitchen, probably already planning where we were going shopping. She had made Saturday mornings feel like something special almost immediately, and I had been quietly looking forward to it all morning.

When I stepped into the kitchen and only found my father sitting at the table instead, I hesitated.

He was typing away on the laptop in front of him with a focused expression, though there was an untouched plate of buttered toast sitting beside him. The house felt strangely quiet without my mother and siblings in it.

A small piece of disappointment settled in my chest before I could stop it.

Dad looked up and smiled the second he noticed me standing there.

“Hey, buddy,” he greeted warmly. “Did you sleep well?”

I nodded and walked over, leaning into his side for a moment before he immediately pulled me onto his lap like there was nowhere else I belonged.

I only hesitated briefly before reaching over and stealing a piece of his toast.

He chuckled and tickled my sides before going back to typing.

“What are you working on, Dad?” I asked as I leaned back against his chest.

“Volume Three of another series I’ve been writing,” he replied. “Volume One took off faster than I expected, so now my publisher is being very pushy and wants the next one finished sooner than I originally planned.”

“What’s it about?”

“Vampires and werewolves.”

I grinned.

“Nice. I like vampires. Is there a copy of the first book here that I can read? I left the copy you signed at Natalie and Greg’s house.”

Dad stopped typing for a second and hugged me warmly.

“I have them in my office, buddy. If only I had known I was writing that little note to you.”

I felt my face go red immediately.

“You’re sort of my favorite author,” I admitted with a deep blush.

Dad laughed and hugged me again.

“Natalie gave me The Touch,” I told him shyly. “I’ve read it almost seven times now.”

He leaned back enough to look at me properly, disbelief written all over his face.

“Seven times?”

I giggled.

“I can almost quote it word for word.”

His expression softened into something quieter.

“I wrote that book to draw you out of hiding,” he said with a small smile as he held me close again. “I’m happy you were able to find comfort in it.”

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Zyan.”

I sat quietly with him for a moment before finally asking the thing that had been bothering me since I came downstairs.

“Where’s everybody else?”

The house was far too quiet.

Dad smiled like he had been waiting for the question.

“Your mother managed to drag Sarah and Kyan to the grocery store with her,” he said with a laugh. “Your brother was very disappointed. He hates going shopping.”

I frowned.

“Why?” I asked. “I was looking forward to going shopping with Mom today.”

Dad’s expression softened immediately, and he kissed the side of my head.

“I know, buddy. Your mother was too. But I asked if I could steal you for the morning.”

I blinked and looked up at him.

“You did?”

He nodded.

“With Sarah there to keep your mother busy, and Kyan there to complain dramatically the entire time, I figured you and I could have the house to ourselves for a little while. Besides,” he added with a mischievous smile, “your mother can go a little overboard sometimes.”

I giggled despite myself.

That actually did make me feel better.

“She already told me she’s claiming you for next Saturday,” Dad added. “Apparently she has plans.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It probably is.”

I smiled and leaned back against him again.

“What are we going to do?”

Dad looked thoughtful for a moment before closing the laptop.

“Well,” he said, “I was considering finally giving you your birthday present, and after that, I thought maybe you and I could go get some lunch together.”

I looked up at him with a smile.

“I’d like to go out with you.”

“Good,” he said smugly as he kissed the top of my head. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re going to want to do a little shopping, too.”