Kat:
I had just gotten Ryder down for the night, his soft breaths steady as I tucked the blanket up under his chin. His new room still smelled like cardboard and fresh paint, and the moonlight leaking through the blinds bathed his tiny features in silver. I watched him for a moment—this little piece of our hearts—peacefully unaware of the heaviness that lingered just down the hall.
I padded barefoot to the living room and found Blaze where I left him—seated on the couch, head bent, elbows on knees, a worn sheet of paper clutched in his tattooed hand. His brows were tight with thought, jaw clenched like he was holding back the weight of the world as he looked at the computer.
My heart squeezed at the sight of him.
“Hey,” I said gently, easing into the room.
His eyes lifted to meet mine
