Her hand never left Ethan's.
But her gaze had shifted, distant now, thoughtful, as if trying to grasp something just beyond reach. That broken sound lingered in her mind, not as a name, not as recognition, but as something unfinished. Something that didn't quite fit.
Gerald turned slightly, his posture straightening as the immediate tension passed, but his mind had already moved ahead.
If Ethan woke....
If he spoke....
If he revealed anything of what had led him here.....
Then questions would follow.
Questions Ethan was not entirely sure he was ready to answer.
For now, though, there was nothing.
No answers.
No clarity.
Only a son on the edge of waking.
And a single, broken syllable....
Floating in a silence none of them yet understood.
---
