I watch her.
Lila steps forward, placing herself between Kai and me like a living shield. There's no hesitation in her stance, no uncertainty in the tilt of her chin. She owns the space, even now, even in front of her brother and me.
I don't move. I let her take the lead, letting her assert herself. But I stay close — close enough to see every flicker of her pulse, every sharp intake of her breath, every tiny movement that betrays how much she's holding herself together.
Eventually, we move to the living room. Lila and Kai take seats on opposite sides of the couch. I remain standing behind her, a silent, solid presence . The air between them is taut, and I let it be.
I watch as the tension slowly rolls off Kai. He's protective, but he's also relieved. Relief is dangerous — it leaves g
