The house didn't feel like home anymore.
Not in that moment.
Not with the way everyone moved faster than usual, quieter than usual, like the walls themselves were listening. The air carried something tense and sharp, something that refused to settle. Aiden noticed it as he walked up the stairs to his room, running a hand through his hair, trying to organize his thoughts before everything blurred into instinct.
An hour.
That's all Matthew had given them.
An hour before they went back out into something they didn't fully understand.
Aiden pushed his door open and stepped inside, closing it behind him with a soft click. He leaned against it for a second, exhaling slowly. His body was tired, but his mind wasn't even close to resting. Every detail from earlier replayed in fragments—Victor's smile, the room, the silence, Noah's voice when he agreed.
That part bothered him the most.
Not because Noah agreed.
But because he didn't hesitate.
