Third person POV
Lance hadn’t been able to sit still since the call.
The sun had sunk low, casting long shadows across the desk of the ship. He paced the length of the room, running a hand through his hair, then stopping abruptly only to start again.
Nolan’s words echoed like a pulse in his mind—steady, relentless, impossible to silence.
I lied. Dad was still alive. I spoke to him.
He could still hear the rasp in Nolan’s voice, the way it had cracked—not with weakness, but with the raw truth of someone who’d been holding it in too long.
For years, Lance had believed a simpler version of the story. Their parents had been caught in a rogue ambush when they’d gone searching for Nolan. Nolan had run away. He’d led them into danger. It was all his fault.
There had been grief, yes, but n
