Gabriel POV
I stayed motionless near the window.
The cool air did nothing to calm the chaos in my head.
She had figured it out.
Faster than expected.
Avery was no longer simply confused.
She was observing.
Connecting details.
Searching.
And that was exactly what worried me.
I had told her I would answer her questions whenever she wanted.
But Lauren…
Lauren refused completely.
She had spent her entire life protecting her children from this world.
Hiding a truth she barely understood herself.
Pretending none of it existed.
Even after what happened today.
Even after Avery almost died.
She still stood firm.
To Lauren, their ignorance was protection.
To me… it was a ticking time bomb.
Because Avery would not stay in the dark forever.
Not with those eyes.
Not with that determination.
If we didn't give her answers,
she would go looking for them herself.
And this time…
she might not come back.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
How was I supposed to explain things without betraying Lauren?
How could I protect Avery without condemning her to ignorance?
— You told me you'd be there if I wanted answers.
Her voice cut straight through my thoughts.
I turned around.
Avery was staring at me.
Paler than usual, but upright.
Determined.
— Now I'm asking you.
What's happening to me?
Her voice was steady.
But her eyes…
Her eyes were pleading with me.
I stayed silent for one second too long.
Because I knew everything would change after this.
If I spoke, there would be no going back.
But if I stayed silent…
she would search alone.
And I couldn't let her put herself in danger anymore.
— Okay.
The word slipped out before I could stop it.
I pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down across from her.
Closer.
More serious.
Her eyes never left mine.
I cleared my throat.
— Avery…
I searched for the right words. The safe words. The ones that wouldn't terrify her.
— What happened in that house… wasn't the real problem.
The doorknob suddenly turned.
The door opened.
I didn't even need to look back to know who had entered.
---
Lauren walked in.
Silent.
Straight-backed.
Her gaze moved from me to Avery in a fraction of a second.
She had heard.
Of course she had heard.
— Gabriel.
Her voice wasn't loud.
But it was sharp.
A warning.
Avery straightened slightly in the bed.
— Mom, no.
Lauren walked closer slowly.
Her eyes inspected Avery's neck, her hands, her complexion.
Relief flashed briefly across her face… then vanished.
Replaced by something harder.
— You should rest, she told her daughter.
Avery shook her head.
— No. Not this time.
The silence tightened between them.
I slowly stood from the chair.
— Lauren, she deserves to know.
Her gaze snapped toward me.
— She deserves to be safe.
— Lying to her isn't protecting her anymore.
Her jaw tightened.
— You don't get to decide that.
Avery looked between us, her eyes moving from one to the other.
She understood without understanding.
— Decide what? she asked.
Lauren moved closer to the bed.
She took Avery's hand.
Gently. Too gently.
— Nothing is going to happen to you that we can't handle.
A lie.
I saw it in her eyes.
Avery did too.
— Then why did I almost die? she asked.
The room seemed to grow colder.
Lauren took a deep breath.
— Because some things… should have stayed buried.
My gaze locked onto her.
That wasn't a reassuring answer.
It was a confession.
Avery slowly pulled her hand away from her mother's.
— Buried where?
Lauren hesitated.
Just for a second.
But Avery saw it.
I saw it.
And I realized the wall Lauren had spent years building had just cracked.
— This isn't the time, she finally said.
Avery clenched the bedsheets in her fingers.
— Then when?
Silence.
Lauren turned toward me.
In her eyes, there was no longer only anger.
There was fear.
Pure fear.
— Get out, Gabriel.
It wasn't a request.
It was an order.
I didn't move.
— No, Avery said.
One word.
Simple, but firm.
Final.
Lauren held her daughter's gaze.
Surprised.
But more than anything, challenged.
And for the first time in a very long time…
I saw that she was no longer certain she still had control.
---