The morning light slanted through the heavy curtains of the room, casting long shadows across the walls.
Amara sat in the small armchair by the window, her body rigid with exhaustion, and her eyes were hollow as she remained wide awake, watching over Vaughn.
The weight of the previous days lay heavy on her chest, suffocating and relentless.
Vaughn had finally fallen asleep in her arms, his small body curled tightly against her, seeking refuge from a world that had been anything but safe.
His fragile breath was a soft reminder that he was still here, still with her, that he had survived..
Just as the dawn broke, a quiet knock broke the silence of morning..
Amara’s heart raced, but she quickly reminded herself that they were safe now.
The knock came again, firmer this time, and she reluctantly pulled her gaze from Vaughn to glance at the door.
Lucas appeared in the doorway, and beside him was Kyle. His expression was serious as his eyes as they landed on her. “Miss, sir and madam are waiting for you at home.”
Home.!
She nodded slowly, her throat tightening.
She carefully shifted, trying not to wake Vaughn, and looked over her shoulder at Rowan, who stood in the doorway, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
The tension in the air thickened as their eyes met.
“I’m going home,” she said softly, trying to gauge his reaction.
Rowan’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.. concern, frustration, maybe even fear.
Amara felt a pang of guilt at his concerned face, but she needed to go home, as her parents were equally concerned about Vaughn.
Seeing Rowan’s silence, Amara continued.. “Thanks for the help Rowan.”
After a long moment, Rowan relented, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world had pressed down on him. “Fine. Take care of Vaughn and yourself, and call me if anything feels off. I’ll come for you.”
“Okay,” Amara whispered, grateful for his understanding.
She scooped Vaughn into her arms, cradling him close against her chest as she stepped out into the hallway, followed closely by Lucas.
The drive back to the Moretti mansion felt surreal, each passing moment draped in a heavy blanket of anxiety and dread.
Amara glanced down at Vaughn’s peaceful face, searching for signs of the boy he once was, but all she saw was a lingering shadow, a remnant of the trauma he had endured.
She wondered what just Vaughn endured during past couple of days, that stole her baby’s smile.
When they arrived at the mansion the front doors swung open before them..
Amara’s gaze flickered to the garden, where her parents were waiting. Isabelle stood beside Vincent, their expressions a mix of concern and relief that made Amara’s heart ache.
Isabelle was the first to notice them.
Her face tightened as she hurried toward Amara, her eyes darting to Vaughn who was still asleep in her arms. “Is he okay?” her mother’s voice trembled, each word heavy with a mother’s fear.
Amara nodded, though doubt lingered in her heart. “He’s… sleeping.”
The words felt like a fragile promise. She could hardly recognize the sound of her own voice, choked with emotions she had fought to keep at bay.
Vincent looked at them, his tall frame casting a long shadow over Amara and Vaughn.
He reached out, gently patting Vaughn’s head as if to reassure both his wife and daughter. “Let’s get inside. It’s cold out here,” he said, his voice steady, but the undercurrent of worry was unmistakable.
With a slow nod, Amara led the way into the house…
She walked to her room, the space where she had once been filled with love and laughter, now transformed into a sanctuary of worry and despair.
Gently, she placed Vaughn on her bed, ensuring he was comfortable.
The quilt was adorned with soft pastel colors.
Vincent and Isabelle followed her inside, their expressions tight with concern.
Isabelle perched on the edge of the bed, her fingers trembling as she brushed Vaughn’s hair from his forehead, a soothing gesture that spoke volumes of her love.
A while later, Vaughn woke up.
Seeing Vaughn awake, Isabelle turned to call Lucas to bring some food for him..
“I’ll call Lucas to bring over some food,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with the weight of her concern for her grandson.
Amara nodded absently, her gaze fixed on Vaughn’s peaceful face, searching for any sign of the boy who had been spirited away from them. “Baby… good morning,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
The moment felt suspended in time as all three of them held their breath, watching and waiting.
But when Vaughn’s eyes finally focused on them, the warmth that should have filled the room dissipated like mist in the morning sun.
His gaze was listless, blank, devoid of the spark that had once shone so brightly in his eyes.
A visceral pain shot through Amara’s heart.
It felt as if someone had ripped a piece of her soul away, leaving her hollow.
She wanted to reach into his mind, to chase away the shadows that haunted him, but she felt powerless.
Vincent’s expression shifted as he absorbed the sight of his grandson, his heart filling with a molten rage.
How could anyone do this to an innocent child.
Whoever had dared to touch Vaughn would pay for this. He would make sure of it.
“Vaughn,” Isabelle coaxed gently, her voice laced with tenderness, “can you hear me? It’s Grandma. We’re here, sweetheart. We’re safe now.”
Vaughn blinked slowly, his small face betraying no recognition of the warmth enveloping him.
Amara could see the gears of his mind turning, struggling against the remnants of trauma that held him captive.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as he remained unresponsive, lost in a world that felt alien to him.
“Do you know who did it?” Vincent finally asked, his voice low and heavy with concern.
Amara shook her head, her throat constricted with the weight of unspoken truths. “No, Dad, not yet.”
He nodded, but the fire in his heart refused to die down.
He wanted answers, and he wanted justice for Vaughn, for Amara, for the family that had been shattered.
Isabelle continued to stroke Vaughn’s hair, her heart aching for the boy who had always brought so much joy into their lives. “We’ll figure this out,” she promised softly, though doubt gnawed at her insides. “He’s safe now. That’s what matters.”
Amara watched as Vaughn’s eyes flickered with fleeting recognition, a momentary spark that quickly faded. Her heart twisted in her chest. “Baby, can you talk to me? Can you tell me what happened?”