Troy didn’t sleep after Alex came back from campus.
He lay in the dark with the conversation replaying in pieces—Alex standing in the kitchen saying he’d talked to Stolas, the calm way he’d refused to treat it like a crime, the fact that he’d come home afterward and still not belonged fully to anyone. Control had always been the answer. Tighten the rules. Close the doors. Remove the problem. None of those tools felt clean anymore. They’d already driven Alex out once. Using them harder now might drive him out for good.
By morning Troy had a headache and a decision. He texted Paxton before breakfast.
**Troy:**
Need to talk. Not about work.
Paxton replied a few minutes later.
**Paxton:**
Study in an hour. I’ll come to you.
---
Paxton arrived while Alex was still upstairs. Bridget l
