In recovery, Emma woke with heavy eyes and dry lips.
The first thing she did was search for him.
When she found him sitting beside her bed with Marvin in his lap, her face softened.
Then she looked past him.
‘Did Grandma come?’
Jordan felt the question settle in his chest like a stone.
He brushed damp hair from her forehead.
‘Not today, sweetheart.’
Emma blinked slowly.
She was six, but she had already learned how to protect adults from her disappointment.
‘Maybe she’s getting me a bigger balloon,’ she whispered.
Jordan smiled because Emma needed him to smile.
Inside, something broke.
He brought her home that evening and slept on the floor beside her bed, one hand resting on the mattress so she could find him in the dark.
Twice she woke in pain.
Twice her fingers closed around his before her eyes opened.
His mother did not call.
His father did not call.
Caleb posted a photo the next afternoon from a tailor’s showroom.
Champagne glasses sparkled on a small table.
Caleb wore polished shoes and an unfinished suit jacket, grinning at himself in the mirror.
His caption read: Big week.
Big moves.
