You leaned against the counter, the cool tile pressing against your palms. The water was cold, almost too cold, and you took a slow sip, letting it settle in your chest. But the image wouldn’t fade. Michael’s eyes, steady, unblinking, finding yours across the room like he’d been waiting for you to look.

You shook your head, setting the bottle down harder than you meant to. The clatter was loud, too loud. You stood there for a moment, listening. The movie was still playing, but the laughter had died down to murmurs. Footsteps creaked somewhere above.

You left the kitchen, padding down the hallway toward the stairs. The house had settled into that heavy, late-night quiet. The light in the living room spilled out, warm and yellow. Marcus was sprawled on the couch, Javier perched on the armrest beside him, both absorbed in whatever was on screen. Michael’s seat was empty.

You took the stairs slowly, each step creaking under your weight. The hallway light was on at the top, casting a long rectangle of pale yellow across the floorboards. You reached the landing and froze.