Alex noticed it first in the morning.
Troy didn’t come down for coffee. That by itself wasn’t strange—he sometimes worked through breakfast—but the house felt off. Bridget had already left for an appointment. Silas was at the office. When Alex passed Troy’s door on the way back from the kitchen, he heard nothing. No movement. No voice on a call.
He knocked once.
No answer.
He knocked again, harder. “Troy.”
A low sound came from inside. Not words. Alex opened the door.
The room was dim. Curtains still closed. Troy was in bed, half-twisted in the sheets, face flushed, hair damp against his forehead. His phone was on the floor like it had slipped out of his hand. When Alex stepped closer, he could feel the heat coming off him before he even touched him.
“Troy.”
Troy’s eyes opened slow
