"Mama, Papa," he said, his voice threaded with a quiet fortitude that belied his tender age, "you both look like you're carrying the moon on your shoulders."
Jason and I exchanged a glance, the weight of our son's observation anchoring us back into the gravity of our roles. Eden reached out, his small hand finding mine, his touch warm and reassuring. "I know it's big and heavy," he continued, eyes gleaming with an otherworldly conviction, "but I also know you can lift it. Together, you're stronger than anything. The pack believes in you... and so do I."
His words, like a beacon in the encroaching darkness, bathed our hearts in a light we hadn't realized had diminished. How could one so young see so much? Jason knelt beside us, bringing our family closer in the dimness of the study.
