The Touch - Rewrite

A month made more of a difference than I thought it would.

Not in a way I could point to all at once, but in smaller things that added up over time. The way mornings didn’t feel as heavy when I woke up. The way I didn’t hesitate as long before speaking in class. The way the house felt… familiar.

Like I wasn’t waiting to be told to leave.

Karen still came every week.

She always knocked the same way, always smiled the same way when I opened the door, like she expected to see me there and wasn’t surprised that I was. She would sit with me for about an hour, asking questions about school, about how things were going, about Natalie and Greg. I always told her the truth. There wasn’t anything bad to say.

That didn’t stop the feeling, though.

The tightness in my chest would start the moment she arrived and wouldn’t go away until she left. It didn’t matter how many times she reassured me that everything was fine, that I was doing well, that no one was going to take me anywhere. The thought stayed anyway, quiet and persistent.

They always say that before something changes.

I never said that part out loud.

After she talked with me, she would sit down with Natalie and Greg. I never listened in, but I didn’t need to. I would sit somewhere nearby, pretending to focus on something else while I waited for the sound of the front door opening again.

It never got easier.

But it didn’t get worse either.

That counted for something.

The rest of the week felt different.

Better.

Deedra and Sheldon came over almost every day after school. It hadn’t started that way. At first it was just once, then twice, then it just… kept happening. Now it felt strange on the days they didn’t show up.

Natalie never minded.

She always greeted them with a smile, asking them about their classes, about their teachers, about whatever they were talking about that day. She remembered things, too—small details that made it obvious she was paying attention. Sheldon seemed surprised by that at first. Deedra didn’t.

Most days, we stayed in my room.

Sometimes we worked on homework.

Most of the time, we didn’t.

“Brontosaurus is the best one,” Deedra insisted, leaning forward in my desk chair as the game loaded. “You get the reach and the weight. Nothing messes with you.”

“It’s slow,” Sheldon countered immediately from where he was sitting on the floor, his back against the side of my bed. “If something faster decides to chase you, you’re done.”

“That’s why you don’t run,” she said. “You stand your ground.”

“That’s not how survival works.”

“It is if you’re bigger than everything else.”

I watched the screen, my fingers resting on the keyboard as the map loaded in. Three massive shapes appeared one after another, all of them the same.

Brontos.

“I think it works,” I said quietly.

They both looked at me.

Then at the screen.

Then back at me.

“See?” Deedra said, pointing at me like that settled it. “Zach gets it.”

“I’m surrounded by bad decisions,” Sheldon muttered, but he didn’t switch dinosaurs.

We spent hours like that on the weekends.

Running across the map together, knocking trees down, getting stuck in places we couldn’t get out of without restarting. It didn’t feel like time passed the same way when we played. It just… went.

And for once, I didn’t feel like I was waiting for something to interrupt it.

That Friday afternoon felt like any other at first.

I was sitting at the table, finishing up the last of my math homework while Deedra and Sheldon argued quietly behind me about something that didn’t matter enough for me to follow. My pencil moved steadily across the page, the numbers making sense in a way that most things didn’t.

Greg walked in a few minutes later, setting his briefcase down near the counter before loosening his tie slightly.

“How much homework do you have left?” he asked as he stepped up beside me, glancing over my shoulder.

“Just a little bit of Math,” I said with a small shrug, shifting the paper slightly so he could see it better.

He stared at it for a second.

Then shook his head.

“Jesus, kid,” he said, sounding genuinely impressed. “It all looks like gibberish to me.”

A small laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

“It's not that bad,” I said, though I didn’t look up.

“That’s what they all say,” he replied, patting my shoulder lightly before straightening up.

I finished the problem and set my pencil down, glancing back at Deedra and Sheldon for a second before looking toward Greg again.

“Hey,” he added, like he had just remembered something. “Come on for a minute.”

I blinked. “Where?”

“My office,” he said, already turning. “You haven’t seen it yet.”

I hesitated for just a second before pushing my chair back and standing.

I hadn’t been in there before.

Not really.

I followed him down the short hallway, my steps quieter than his as he opened the door and stepped inside.

The room felt different from the rest of the house.

Quieter.

More contained.

Bookshelves lined one entire wall, filled from top to bottom. Not just a few books—dozens. Maybe more. They weren’t stacked randomly either. Everything looked organized, intentional, like it all had a place.

I stepped inside slowly, my eyes moving across the shelves without really knowing where to focus first.

“That’s… a lot,” I said before I could stop myself.

Greg huffed out a quiet laugh behind me. “Yeah,” he said. “Comes with the job.”

I moved a little closer, scanning the spines. Some of the titles didn’t make any sense to me. Others looked complicated just from the words alone.

“You read all of these?” I asked.

“Most of them,” he said. “Some more than once.”

I glanced back at him, then at the shelves again.

It didn’t feel like a room I wasn’t supposed to be in.

But it still felt… important.

Before I could say anything else, Greg leaned lightly against the doorway.

“Oh, and by the way,” he added, like it wasn’t a big deal, “we’ve got visitors this weekend.”

The word hit faster than I expected.

Visitors.

My stomach tightened before I could stop it.

“Who?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“My brother and his son,” Greg said, a smile already forming. “They’re staying the weekend. It’s been about five years since they’ve made it out this way.”

Five years.

That sounded like a long time.

“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Greg didn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he looked amused.

“Geoff owns a tech company,” he explained. “Avatar Technology. He’s been tied up with contracts for a while.”

I frowned slightly. “It takes five years?”

Greg laughed at that, shaking his head. “Sometimes, Zachary. Some of this stuff takes a long time. I’ve got a client I’ve been working with for almost a decade.”

I blinked.

That didn’t make it sound better.

I rolled my eyes slightly, and Greg laughed again, reaching out to pat my back.

“They’ll be here tonight,” he added. “So finish up what you’re doing and we’ll get ready.”

I nodded, though my mind had already started moving ahead of me.

Visitors.

I turned slightly, looking back toward the hallway where I could still hear Deedra and Sheldon talking.

The house didn’t feel as quiet anymore.

About an hour after Deedra and Sheldon left, the doorbell rang.

The sound cut cleanly through the house, sharper than I expected, and I was already moving before Natalie or Greg could say anything. I reached the door quickly and pulled it open.

The resemblance was immediate.

The man standing on the other side looked like an older version of Greg—same brown hair, same dark eyes, just sharper around the edges. There was something more defined in his expression, something more controlled. Beside him stood a boy a few years older than me, close enough in appearance that I didn’t have to guess.

Father and son.

For a second, I just stood there, taking it in.

They looked like they belonged here.

“Is Greg or Natalie here?” the man asked, his voice low and steady, pulling me out of the moment.

I nodded quickly, stepping back slightly, my hand still resting on the door.

“They’re—”

“Geoff!”

Greg’s voice cut in from behind me as he came into the room, his expression lighting up the second he saw them. “Come in, come in!”

The man—Geoff—stepped inside, his smile widening as the two of them moved toward each other. It was easy. Familiar. Like they had done it a hundred times before, even if it had been years.

“Don’t mind Zachary,” Greg added easily, resting a hand briefly on my shoulder. “He gets a little tongue-tied around new people.”

Heat rushed to my face immediately, and I dropped my gaze, embarrassed. I wasn’t sure if I should say something, or just stay quiet, or move out of the way completely.

Before I could decide, Greg scooped me up into a quick hug, keeping me close as he turned slightly toward them.

“Geoff,” he said, his tone warm, “this is Zachary. He’s our foster son. We’re hoping to make that permanent if we can’t locate any family.”

The words settled heavier than everything else had.

Foster son.

Make it permanent.

My throat tightened, and I buried my face against his shoulder without thinking, the warmth of it grounding and overwhelming at the same time. They had talked to me about it before, quietly, carefully—but hearing it said out loud like that, like it was something real enough to share, made something shift inside my chest.

Something fragile.

Something I didn’t know how to hold onto yet.

“That’s awesome, Uncle Greg!” the boy said, his voice bright with excitement. “It’s about time I had a cousin.”

Greg laughed at that, the sound easy as he set me back on my feet.

“Zachary,” he said, gesturing lightly, “this is my brother Geoff, and that’s his son, Gavin.”

Gavin stepped forward immediately, holding his hand out without hesitation.

“Hi, Zach,” he said, smiling like there wasn’t anything complicated about this at all. “I’m Gavin.”

I hesitated for just a second before shaking his hand, my grip light and careful.

He didn’t let it stay that way for long.

He stepped forward and pulled me into a quick hug, easy and unforced, like it was the most natural thing in the world. A small, surprised laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it, and I stepped back again, my face warm.

“Natalie’s in the kitchen,” Greg said, already guiding Geoff further into the house. “She’s been waiting to try out a new recipe on you.”

“Tell Aunt Nat I’m here too,” Gavin called after them, only half paying attention before turning back to me.

The front door clicked shut behind them, leaving the two of us standing in the living room.

The quiet felt different now.

Not empty.

Just… focused.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Zachary,” he said.

The words landed heavier than they should have.

Of course you have.

The thought came fast, familiar, settling in before I could stop it.

What do you know?

What did they tell you?

I forced a small nod, not trusting my voice right away, my fingers curling slightly at my sides.

“Don’t worry,” Gavin added quickly, like he had noticed something shift. “It’s all good stuff.”

I blinked, not entirely convinced, but he didn’t give me time to sit in it.

“Do you want to play something?” he asked, already glancing toward the TV. “My dad always makes sure your uncle has the newest systems.”

“Okay,” I said, the answer coming easier than I expected.

We moved into the living room, and he grabbed a controller like he had done it a hundred times before. I sat beside him, a little more careful, watching what he did before following along.

We settled on a racing game.

The familiar sounds filled the room quickly—engines revving, menus clicking, the low hum of the system running. It helped. It gave me something to focus on that didn’t involve thinking too much about what he might know or what he might ask.

Gavin talked while we played, filling the space easily. He told me about his school, about how much he hated early classes, about his friends back home. He didn’t pause to see if I was keeping up, didn’t wait for perfect responses. He just… kept going, like the conversation didn’t need to be balanced to work.

I listened.

Answered when I could.

Watched more than anything.

It felt easier that way.

“I love flying,” he said at one point, leaning forward slightly as his car took a sharp turn. “Planes, I mean. Not like… jumping off things.”

“You’re afraid of heights?” I asked quietly, glancing over at him for a second.

“Terrified,” he said without hesitation. “Makes no sense, I know.”

I nodded slightly, understanding more than I said.

“I’ve never been on a plane,” I added after a second, the words coming out softer than I meant them to.

He glanced at me, then shrugged. “You’re not missing much unless you’re in first class. If you ever go, just convince Uncle Greg to upgrade you.”

I blinked, unsure how that worked.

“How?”

Gavin grinned. “Bat those eyes at him. You’ve got the kind that make people say yes.”

Heat rushed to my face again, and I ducked my head slightly as a small laugh slipped out, quieter this time but still there.

He nudged my shoulder lightly when his car clipped a barrier and spun out.

“Hey, that’s cheating,” he said.

“I didn’t do anything,” I replied, still smiling faintly as I focused back on the screen.

“Exactly. That’s the problem.”

We played for a little while longer, the rhythm of it settling into something easy, before he set his controller down and stretched slightly.

“Let’s go check on them,” he said, standing up.

I glanced at the system, the controller still in my hand, a small flicker of hesitation passing through me. My fingers tightened slightly as I reached forward, instinctively moving to set it down properly, to straighten everything before leaving.

Before I could, his hand landed lightly on my shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gavin said. “We’re allowed to be a little messy sometimes.”

The moment his hand touched my shoulder, something in me snapped loose.

The living room didn’t feel like the living room anymore. The light dulled at the edges first, like it had been pulled back just enough to make everything feel wrong. The sounds around me followed, muffled and distant, like they were coming from somewhere far away instead of right beside me. The controller in my hand suddenly felt too heavy, too real, and then not real enough all at once.

And then—

I wasn’t there anymore.

I looked up at him and saw something else entirely. The shape was wrong. The expression was wrong. The room was wrong.

The Monster stood where Gavin had been, his face twisted in anger as he pointed toward the floor.

“What the fuck, Zachary?”

The words hit hard, sharp and familiar, cutting through everything else.

My gaze dropped automatically.

Shoes.

Not lined up right.

I barely had time to react before his hand was in my hair, yanking me forward. Pain shot across my scalp as he dragged me down, slamming my face into the floor beside them. The impact blurred my vision, but it didn’t stop there. It never stopped there.

The world shifted again—hallway, wall, movement too fast to follow. My body hit something hard, then again, then again, the force knocking the air from my lungs as the picture behind me shattered against the wall. Glass cracked, splintered, fell around me in pieces I couldn’t focus on.

I tried to fight. I always tried.

My hands pushed, pulled, grabbed at anything that might slow him down, but it didn’t matter. It never mattered. He dragged me down the hallway, my feet slipping against the floor, my shoulder catching on the edge of the wall before he threw me forward again.

The bathroom.

The shower.

Darkness closed in around me as the door slammed shut, the space too small, too tight, swallowing everything else whole. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

‘What the fuck, Zachary?’

The voice shifted.

Not his.

Mine.

‘You should have just walked away.’

The thought cut through the chaos, sharp and accusing.

‘It was just a game. You knew better.’

The darkness didn’t lift right away, but something changed. Something warm. It started as pressure, steady and close, like something solid holding me in place instead of throwing me around. A rhythm followed, slow and even, cutting through the noise that wasn’t there anymore.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

I clung to it without thinking, my hands grabbing onto fabric, pulling myself closer to whatever it was. I didn’t care who it belonged to. I just needed it to stay.

“I think he’s coming around, Greg.”

The voice was real.

Close.

It vibrated through the chest I was pressed against, grounding in a way nothing else had been. I breathed in sharply, the air catching in my throat before settling unevenly in my lungs. My fingers tightened in the fabric of Geoff’s shirt as awareness came back in pieces instead of all at once.

“What do I do?” Geoff asked, his voice lower now, uncertain in a way that didn’t match how he had sounded before.

“Just keep talking to him,” Greg said from somewhere nearby. “Rub his back. He’ll settle.”

A quiet laugh rumbled through Geoff’s chest at that, soft and careful, like he didn’t want to break whatever this was.

“Is that true, buddy?” Geoff asked gently. “That how I win you over?”

His fingers moved lightly against my back, slow and steady, not forcing anything. Something in me loosened, just enough. He nudged my side lightly, and a small, startled giggle slipped out before I could stop it. The sound felt strange after everything else, but it was real.

I opened my eyes slowly.

The ceiling came into focus first.

Then the room.

Then Gavin.

He was sitting close, his face tight with worry, his eyes locked on me like he was trying to figure out if I was okay without asking. The moment my eyes met his, he moved.

Fast.

Gavin threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around me as tightly as he could. The force of it caught me off guard, my body tensing instinctively before I realized what was happening.

“Easy, Gavin,” Greg said calmly. “He’s not all there yet.”

I felt the pressure of the hug, the way Gavin held on like he was afraid to let go, and for a second my brain didn’t know how to process it. Then I noticed it—his grip wasn’t steady. It wasn’t controlled.

He was shaking.

Not me.

Him.

“I’m so sorry, Zachary,” Gavin said, his voice breaking as he clung to me. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I froze, the words hitting somewhere that didn’t make sense. My thoughts stalled, tripping over something unfamiliar as I tried to understand what was happening. People didn’t apologize like that. Not to me. It was always the other way around. It was supposed to be the other way around.

Geoff shifted slightly beneath me, and a second later Gavin was pulled back as Greg helped him sit up. I stayed where I was, still half in Geoff’s lap, my thoughts lagging behind everything around me. Across from me, Gavin’s shoulders shook as Greg held onto him, speaking quietly, steadying him the same way I had just been steadied.

I frowned and started to move, instinct pushing me forward, telling me to fix it somehow, but Geoff’s arm tightened gently around my waist, holding me in place.

“Not just yet, buddy,” he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. “He needs to see you’re okay.”

I stilled at that, my gaze shifting back to Gavin. He looked smaller like this, not in size, but in the way he held himself, like something had been knocked loose and he didn’t know how to put it back yet.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Geoff continued quietly. “He just didn’t understand what was going on.”

My throat tightened slightly as the words settled in, not quite sinking all the way through.

“He doesn’t know I’m broken,” I said before I could stop myself.

Geoff didn’t hesitate.

“You’re not broken,” he replied, dismissing it immediately. “You’ve just been through things you shouldn’t have had to go through.”

His hand moved slowly against my back again, steady, grounding, the same rhythm that had pulled me out of everything before.

“You’re with people who care about you now,” he added. “That’s what matters.”

I didn’t answer right away. The words didn’t fully land, not all at once, but they didn’t fall away either. They stayed somewhere in between, unsettled but not rejected.

Across the room, Gavin’s breathing started to even out, his grip on Greg loosening as the tension slowly left his shoulders. Greg said something to him, too quiet for me to hear, but it seemed to help. Gavin nodded, wiping at his face before looking back at me, still a little shaken, still watching like he needed to make sure I hadn’t disappeared again.

“Which room is yours, Zachary?”

Gavin’s voice was lighter now, steadier than it had been downstairs, like he was trying to keep things normal again.

I hesitated for just a second before turning and leading him down the hallway. My steps were quieter than his, my mind still catching up to everything that had just happened. The house felt the same, but I didn’t feel settled in it the same way I had earlier.

I pushed my door open and stepped inside, moving automatically as Gavin followed behind me. I heard the faint sound of a phone ringing somewhere in the kitchen, distant enough that it didn’t pull my attention away.

Gavin closed the door behind us.

The click was soft, but it made the room feel more contained.

He set his suitcase down near the foot of the bed, then reached forward and took the pillow from my hands without asking, tossing it lightly onto the mattress. A second later, he grabbed his backpack and climbed up onto the bed like he had already decided this was his space too.

“Come here, Zach,” he said, patting the spot beside him with a small grin as he started digging through his bag. “I’ve got something for you.”

I moved a little slower, watching him instead of immediately joining him, unsure what he meant.

“Aunt Nat and Uncle Greg want you to have this,” he added, glancing up at me briefly before pulling something out.

A thin white box.

Clean.

Simple.

A black ‘A’ centered on the top.

He held it out toward me.

“What is it?” I asked quietly, my fingers hesitating before taking it.

“You have to open it, silly,” Gavin said with a soft laugh, bumping his shoulder lightly against mine. Then he paused for a second, like he was remembering something important. “Wait—okay, I was told to say this exactly. You have everyone’s permission to have it, and you’re not allowed to ask how much it cost. Everything’s already been handled.”

He grinned again. “Now you can open it.”

That didn’t help.

If anything, it made my hands shake more.

“Umm… okay,” I said quietly.

I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, the box resting in my hands as I stared at it for a second longer than I should have. It felt too clean. Too new. Too… important.

My fingers moved slowly, carefully lifting the lid.

They were shaking.

Gavin noticed.

He reached over without hesitation, placing his hand gently over mine, steadying it instead of stopping me.

“Relax, Zachary,” he said, softer now. “They want you to have it. My dad made sure everything was taken care of. You don’t have to worry about anything with this.”

The words should have helped.

But something else surfaced instead.

The memory of earlier hit fast and sharp—Gavin’s face when I came back, the way his voice had sounded, the tears I hadn’t expected to see. My stomach dropped, the box suddenly feeling heavier in my hands as the moment tried to pull me back under again.

Before it could—

Gavin moved.

He pulled me into a tight hug, one arm around my shoulders, the other steady at my back.

“Hey,” he said firmly, not angry, but not letting it slide either. “Don’t do that again.”

I froze slightly in his grip.

“I didn’t mean—” I started, my voice catching.

“I know,” he cut in quickly, pulling back just enough to look at me. His expression wasn’t upset—it was intense, focused, like he needed me to understand something. “You just scared me earlier, okay? That’s all it was.”

The words didn’t line up with what I expected.

I swallowed, my gaze dropping slightly.

“I… I didn’t do anything wrong?” I asked quietly, unsure.

Gavin blinked at me like the question didn’t make sense.

“No,” he said immediately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shifted slightly, one hand coming up to steady my chin so I had to look at him.

“I’ve heard nothing but good things about you,” he continued. “From Aunt Natalie, from Uncle Greg—like, actually good things. Not just… polite stuff. You get that, right?”

I hesitated.

Then nodded, just a little.

His expression softened almost immediately.

“Good,” he said, pulling me into another quick hug, this one lighter. “Because I meant it when I said we’re gonna get along.”

Something in my chest eased, just slightly.

He leaned back again, nodding toward the box still in my hands.

“Now open it before I get in trouble for messing up the delivery.”

I glanced down at it again, my fingers steadier this time as I lifted the lid the rest of the way.

Inside—

A phone.

Black. Sleek. Shiny.

Brand new.

I stared at it, not fully processing what I was looking at.

“Really?” I asked softly, my voice catching slightly.

“Yeah, Zach,” Gavin said, watching my reaction carefully now. “I got to pick it out for you. It’s Avatar’s newest one.”

I didn’t reach for it right away.

It felt like something I shouldn’t touch.

Like it didn’t belong to me.

Gavin noticed that too.

“It’s yours,” he said gently. “Not borrowed. Not temporary. Yours.”

That made something shift.

Slowly, I reached into the box and picked it up, holding it carefully in both hands like it might break if I wasn’t careful enough.

“Let’s go downstairs,” Gavin added, already sliding off the bed. “I’ll help you set it up. And my dad’s got something for you too.”

I blinked. “What is it?”

He grinned, shaking his head. “Nope. Surprise.”

I hesitated again, that word catching somewhere deeper than it should have.

He noticed.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said lightly. “We do surprises a lot.”

I stood slowly, still holding the phone.

“My birthday’s coming up in a few months,” he added casually as he walked toward the door. “You’re gonna like that too.”

I froze.

The word birthday hit harder than anything else had.

Nothing good ever came with that.

Not before.

Not ever.

“Hey,” Gavin said, glancing back at me. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing the word out before the thought could settle too deep. “Just… thinking.”

He studied me for a second, then nodded.

“Alright,” he said, stepping closer and giving my back a quick, reassuring scratch. “I thought I was gonna have to hug you again.”

A small laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

That helped.

“Come on,” he added, nudging me lightly toward the door.

This time, I moved with him.

Greg was in the middle of setting the table when Gavin and I entered the dining room. Gavin moved ahead of me and dropped into one of the chairs without hesitation, like he had already decided where he belonged, while I circled around the table and went straight to Greg.

I didn’t think about it.

I just wrapped my arms around him.

He didn’t hesitate either. Greg picked me up immediately, one arm sliding under me while the other wrapped around my back, pulling me in close. The moment he squeezed me, something in my chest loosened, the last of the tension from earlier fading in a way I didn’t have to fight through.

I relaxed into him—

—and the phone slipped from my hands.

It hit the floor with a heavy thump.

I froze instantly, my breath catching as I looked down at it. The shine of it against the floor felt wrong, like it didn’t belong there, like I had already messed something up that I wasn’t supposed to.

“My bad, buddy,” Greg said with a quiet chuckle, like it hadn’t even registered as a problem. He shifted his hold on me slightly, still keeping me secure as he glanced down. “That one’s on me.”

I didn’t answer right away. My chest tightened as I stared at the phone, the familiar feeling creeping up too fast, too automatic.

I broke it.

Greg noticed immediately.

He reached up, gently lifting my chin so I had to look at him, and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he said calmly. “This is why we got you the unbreakable one.”

The word unbreakable caught my attention, settling in differently than everything else.

He bent down, still holding me with one arm, and picked the phone up before placing it on the table like it had never been a problem in the first place.

“Thanks, Greg,” I said softly, the word slipping out before I could stop it. “I’ve never had my own phone before.”

“You’ve earned it, buddy,” Greg replied easily, poking me lightly in the stomach. “And now you’ve got a way to get ahold of us if something happens at school.”

Then he paused.

Really paused.

He leaned back slightly, studying me like something had just clicked into place.

“Holy crap, Zach,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “You just called me ‘Greg’.”

Heat rushed into my face before I could stop it.

Greg lifted his hand and pressed it lightly against my forehead, exaggerating the motion. “You look like my Zachary,” he added, his tone playful.

A small laugh slipped out of me, and I nuzzled into his chest again, the warmth spreading through me even as a few stray tears slipped free. I didn’t feel as tense about them this time.

A faint clicking sound pulled my attention upward.

I glanced over and saw Natalie lowering her phone, a soft, knowing smile on her face.

“Did you hear what he just called me?” Greg asked, looking at her like he needed confirmation. “Did you already give him his meds today?”

Natalie stepped closer, wrapping her arms briefly around both of us before pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. “Dinner’s ready, guys,” she said warmly.

Greg shifted and set me back down on my feet, his hand lingering on my shoulder for a second before he turned back toward the table. He picked up my phone and handed it back to me, his expression still light.

“Try to hold onto it this time,” he added with a grin.

I nodded, holding it more carefully now.

Greg reached out and ruffled my hair before gently nudging me back toward the others. “I’m going to help Nat finish getting dinner on the table,” he said. “Gavin, I think your dad’s still in the office—let him know dinner’s ready.”

“I’ll do it,” I said quietly, the words coming out before I could think too much about them.

Gavin paused mid-motion, then leaned back in his chair with a grin. “All yours, cuz.”

As I turned to leave, he leaned in just enough to whisper, “Uncle Geoff’s really ticklish on his sides.”

I couldn’t help the small grin that formed as I headed down the hallway.

The office door was open, and I could hear Geoff talking on the phone. I slowed my steps as I approached, not wanting to interrupt. For a second, I thought about trying what Gavin suggested, but the tone of Geoff’s voice made me stop.

He was working.

I stepped into the doorway instead.

“Uncle Geoff?” I said, just loud enough for him to hear me.

He turned immediately, his expression softening as soon as he saw me. He held up one finger, signaling that he’d be done soon, and motioned for me to come in.

“Come on in, buddy,” he said with a smile. “This is your house. I’ll only be a minute longer.”

I hesitated for a moment before stepping fully inside, my gaze drifting around the room. I moved toward Greg’s chair and sat down carefully, the leather soft beneath me as I shifted slightly.

From there, I could see out both windows—one overlooking the side yard, the other the front. The light outside had started to fade just enough to make everything look quieter.

The wall beside the door caught my attention next.

The bookshelf.

It stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling, filled almost completely. Books lined every inch of it, organized in a way that looked intentional, like each one had a place.

I stared at it for a second longer than I meant to.

“Do you think it’s possible to get that new device to me by tomorrow, Sam?” Geoff asked into the phone, his tone shifting into something more focused. He paused briefly before continuing. “Make it happen. It’s the only way the other thing is going to work.”

He glanced at me and gave a small nod, like he hadn’t forgotten I was there.

“Thank you, Sam. I’ll make it up to you,” he added before ending the call.

He turned fully toward me, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“So,” he said, stepping around the desk, “I think I just heard you call me ‘Uncle’?”

Heat crept into my face again, but I nodded.

That was all he needed.

He came over and picked me up easily, like Greg had earlier, pulling me into a tight hug before turning toward the hallway.

Greg and Natalie were still setting dishes on the table when Geoff stopped in the archway with me resting against his side.

“I’d like to make an announcement,” Geoff said proudly. “This guy just dubbed me ‘Uncle Geoff.’ I nearly dropped my phone.”

Greg laughed. “He’ll keep you on your toes, brother.”

Gavin grinned from his seat.

Geoff set me down in my spot at the table, giving my shoulder a light squeeze before stepping back.

“So,” he added, glancing toward Natalie, “what did the amazing Chef Natalie make for dinner tonight?”