Lucas clutched the paper, cold spreading through his chest like ice. No birth hospital. No date. No proof he was born to Daisy. Only a quiet phrase: intake. He stared at it, breath catching in his throat, and felt the world tilt slightly off its axis.
But he didn’t say anything. Not to Daisy. Not to Robert. Not to Lucy. Instead, he folded the paper back in, shut the drawer, and walked upstairs. At dawn, he packed his bag quietly. Rose was waiting, and the plan was still in place. But now, he had questions—many questions.
Lucas hoped the change of scenery would still the storm inside him. Rose’s home was nestled in a quiet neighborhood, framed by frosted windows and the smell of pine. It should’ve calmed him. But from the moment he stepped inside, something felt… off.
Rose’s father, James Harrigan, was all warmth and handshakes. He joked about holiday weight and offered Lucas cider. But her mother—Kiara—froze mid-step when she saw him. For a second, her smile faltered. Her eyes locked on Lucas as if she were looking at a ghost.