Test Subject: 012 - Feb 2116
Recount of Aug - Dec 2114
Watching 004 chest rise and fall, I feel this weird tightness in my own. He looks so tired. Not the kind of tired a nap fixes, the kind that eats at you, like your body's forgotten how to rest.
They pushed him too far again. I just know it. The way he barely made it through the door, the way his hands were shaking with a strange shade of black running up his hands like his power is trying to consume him.
My jaw tightens, anger bubbling under my skin. Do they see what they're doing to him? Do they even care?
Then 004 shifts, a tiny sound leaving his throat, and all that anger dissolves. "Shh, it's okay…" I whisper as I brush the hair from his forehead. He relaxes again, his breathing evening out. I can't help smiling. He looks so peaceful like this. Fragile, sure, but… human.
I glance at the big, stupid observation mirror. The one that never stops watching us. I hate that thing. No one should have to sleep under a spotlight. Before I can stop myself, I march right up to it and knock... knock knock knock.
"Hey!" I call out. "I know you're in there! Can we talk for a sec?"
Silence. I cross my arms and tap my foot. "Come on, I'm not going away!" I add a few more knocks for good measure.
After a few seconds, there's a click, the sound of the lock releasing. "Ha! Knew it," I whisper to myself before darting out the door.
By the time I reach the observation room, the door's already open, and a young scientist is standing there looking confused. "What can I help you with, 012?" he asks, sounding a little nervous.
I glance at his badge. Dr. Thomas. I flash him my best grin. "So, I need to make a fort."
He blinks. "A… what?"
"A fort!" I say brightly, spreading my hands like it's obvious. "You know, blankets, sheets, the whole thing! It'll be temporary, I promise!"
He stares at me, probably wondering if I've lost my mind. "And… why do you want to make a fort?"
"Because 004..." I stop, frowning a little. "He's had a really rough day. I just… I want him to rest without being watched, you know? Give him a break. Even test subjects need a break sometimes."
Thomas blinks again. I can practically see the "no" forming on his lips. So I tilt my head, widen my eyes a little, and give him the best puppy-dog look I can manage. "Please?"
He sighs, and for a second, I think he might still say no. But then he mutters, "Fine. But only for tonight."
I light up immediately. "Really?! You're the best, Doc!" I throw him a quick thumbs-up, grinning from ear to ear.
He turns to leave, but I catch the door before it shuts. "Oh, uh...one more thing!"
He looks over his shoulder, clearly regretting every choice that led him here. "What now?"
"Can I have a pen?"
"…a pen?"
"Yeah!" I nod eagerly.
He hesitates, then pulls a pen from his coat pocket and hands it to me. "Just don't draw on the walls," he says, already sounding exhausted.
I beam. "Deal!"
And with that, I dash off down the hall, already planning out where the stars will go.
_____________________________
The plan actually went way better than I expected. When 004 saw the fort, he looked totally caught off guard, eyes wide, blinking like he couldn't believe it was real. But then, just for a second, I saw it, that tiny flicker of something soft. Joy. The kind of joy you get from being a kid again. It made all the rushing around worth it.
He even seems to like the stars I drew! I thought they looked awful, I mean, I didn't have much time, and I was panicking the whole time that he'd wake up before I could finish. But the way he looked at them… yeah, it felt worth it.
Still, as I stare at those messy little doodles, something tugs at me. I can't stop thinking about the real stars. How they actually shine, how quiet the world feels when you're under them. It's been so long since I've seen them. And tomorrow, I have to tell Dr. Langard if I want to leave.
I already told myself I'd stay, I couldn't just walk out and leave 004 here alone again. But when I look at those drawn-on sheets, I can't help thinking what if. What if I could just… go outside again, just once.
Then, out of nowhere, his voice cuts through my thoughts. "Me and my brother used to go stargazing too."
I blink and sit up a little. "Wait, you have a brother?"
He nods, quiet and thoughtful, and I can feel something stir in my chest. A brother. I had no idea. I want to know everything. About his life before this place, about what he was like back then, when he wasn't just a number like the rest of us.
As he talks, I can tell how much he loved his brother. It's there in the way he smiles, and how it fades when he mentions the day everything changed. The air feels heavier for a second, and I just want to reach out and fix it somehow, all i can think of doing is to give him a hug.
I'm surprised he lets me, but I can feel all the tension leave his body as I do.
Then he surprises me. "What about you, 012? What about your family?"
I freeze a little. I'd been so focused on him, I forgot that I even had a story too. It's funny, hearing him talk about love and loss made something ache inside me. He's not the only one who lost everything.
I don't really want to ruin the mood, but… he's looking at me, really looking, like he actually wants to know. So I do what I always do when things get a little heavy. I play it off, smile, and fall backwards onto the bed.
"Well…" I say, patting the spot beside me. "If I'm gonna tell you, you gotta come lie down too. It's a story best told under the stars."
He hesitates , because that's just something he always does, but eventually, he lies down beside me, close enough that I can feel his warmth. I grin up at our fake constellations.
"Well, a few years back…" I start softly, my voice quieter than usual.
And for once, I don't feel like the cheerful one holding everything together. I just feel… human.
___________________________
It was one of those perfect summer evenings, warm air, blue skies fading to gold, and our car packed so full of camping gear that I was surprised the doors even closed. Dad was outside, wrestling with the last of the bags, muttering something about "too much stuff for three people," while Mum and I sat in the car with the air conditioning blasting like our lives depended on it.
"Ugh, it's so hot," Mum groaned dramatically, fanning herself with a map. "Why do we always go camping in the middle of summer?"
I grinned. "Because how else are you gonna fix those awful tan lines, Mum?"
She turned around, laughing, and gave my leg a playful smack. "Cheeky brat."
We both started laughing just as Dad opened the door and climbed in, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Alright, everything's in. Last call, anyone need the toilet?"
We both shouted "No!" at the same time, and he chuckled, shaking his head as he started the engine.
The drive was perfect, windows down, music playing, sunlight pouring through the windshield. I leaned back in my seat, smiling to myself. I didn't say it out loud, but I felt it deep down, I was just really, really happy to be here.
When we got to the campsite, it wasn't too crowded, just the right mix of quiet and laughter. Kids were chasing each other near the river, someone was grilling burgers nearby, and the air smelled like summer.
We set up our tent (well, Dad did most of the work while I "supervised"), and Mum started prepping dinner. By the time the sun started setting, the sky was glowing orange and pink, and Dad was already lighting a small campfire for marshmallows.
The night was soft and warm, and I could hear my parents laughing quietly by the fire as my eyelids grew heavy. Their voices blended with the crackle of the fire, it was like the world had gone peaceful for a while.
Then I felt a gentle hand ruffle my hair.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Dad's voice said. "You'll miss the shooting stars."
My eyes shot open immediately. "Shooting stars?!"
I scrambled up, nearly tripping over the blanket, and ran toward the open field away from the campfire's light. And when I looked up...
Wow.
The sky was alive. Thousands of stars scattered above me, and every few seconds, one would streak across the heavens like a spark. I just stood there, mouth open, feeling small but so alive.
A moment later, Mum and Dad came up beside me, their arms brushing mine. None of us said anything, we didn't need to. We just watched, together, under the biggest, brightest sky I'd ever seen.
It's one of those memories I will tuck close to my heart, warm, shining, and full of light.
_____________________________
Morning light filters through the tent walls, soft and golden. For a few peaceful seconds, everything feels normal. I stretch, blinking against the glow, and listen to the distant hum of the campsite waking up, people laughing, tent zippers unzipping, birds chirping in the trees.
We eat a quick breakfast, half-asleep and smiling. The camping trips always go by too fast, but I don't feel too sad. I know we'll plan another one soon. We always do.
By the time we pile into the car, the air already feels thick with heat. Dad's in the driver's seat, humming along to some old song on the radio. Mum's got her sunglasses on, pretending she isn't sunburnt, even though her face is practically glowing red.
I can't help it, I laugh. "Mum, you look like a tomato!"
She gasps dramatically, swatting my arm. "Excuse me! This is called a healthy glow, thank you very much."
Dad snorts. "If that's healthy, I don't want to see sick."
She rolls her eyes, and soon we're all laughing. The car hums along the open road, sunlight flashing across the windshield, the faint smell of campfire still clinging to our clothes. For a moment, everything feels perfect, bright, easy, alive.
But then… we stop.
At first, I think it's just traffic. A long line of cars stretches ahead, barely moving. Dad sighs and taps the steering wheel. "Probably an accident up ahead," he mutters.
Minutes pass. Then ten. Then twenty. The heat gets heavier, pressing down on us. Mum turns down the music, fanning herself. "What's taking so long?"
"I don't know," Dad says, peering out the window. "Maybe I'll step out and check what's going on."
Something in his tone feels off, tight, uncertain.
He opens the door and steps outside, telling us he'll just be a minute.
The car feels suddenly too quiet. Mum leans forward, watching him disappear into the line of cars ahead. The radio hums softly, a cheerful song that feels wrong now.
Then we hear it.
A dull thump and whoosh.
It's faint at first, distant, like something heavy hitting the ground. Then again. Closer. Thump. Whoosh. Thump.
Mum glances at me, her brows furrowing. The rhythm grows louder, faster. I can feel it in my chest, a tremor through the car floor.
"Can you see anything?" Mum calls, leaning out her window.
Dad's voice floats back, as he appears back around the cars. "No, I think-"
And then it's cut off.
A wet, slashing sound. Too fast for my brain to process.
Mum's scream tears through the air.
There's blood, splattered against the side of the car, dripping down the door. I can't even breathe. My mind blanks. My dad… he was just there.
People start screaming. Doors slam open. Cars are left running as crowds surge backward. Panic ripples through the air like static.
"Wh...What's happening?" I stammer, but Mum doesn't answer. She's already out of the car, pulling my door open.
"Come on! We need to run!"
Her hand grabs mine, hard, and we start running down the road, away from the chaos. My feet barely touch the ground, I'm stumbling, my heart slamming so hard it hurts. I glance back once...
And I wish I hadn't.
Where Dad had been standing, only his legs remain. The rest… gone. Almost like it had been torn away.
My stomach flips. I choke on a scream, the taste of bile rising in my throat. Mum tugs harder. "Don't look! Keep running!"
Everything's noise, sirens, metal twisting, people shouting, the world breaking apart. We're almost at a clearing when the air changes.
There's a sudden roar of wind, and before I can even blink, a car flies overhead, flipping through the air like a toy before crashing down in front of us with an earth-shaking slam.
We skid to a stop, frozen. There had been people there, standing right where the car landed. Now there's nothing left but blood and dust.
And then we see him.
A man, standing amid the wreckage like something out of a nightmare. He's tall, muscular, his head shaved, a scar slashing across one eye. In his hand, he drags a metal crate marked with the GenX logo, the same one Dad used to talk about in hushed tones.
My mind races. Did he steal it? What's inside?
Before I can think, the air around us shifts. A pressure builds, like the world holding its breath, and then a whoosh splits the air. A blade of wind tears through the space between us, slicing everything in its path.
The sound is deafening.
I hit the ground hard. For a second, I can't hear anything but ringing. Then I see her.
Mum.
She's lying a few feet away, motionless. Blood spreads beneath her like spilled paint. I crawl toward her on shaking hands. "Mum? Mum!"
She blinks, barely conscious. There's so much blood. Too much. Her arm, it's gone. Cut clean off from where to was holding my hand.
Panic claws up my throat. "No... no, no, please, Mum, stay with me!" I press my hands over the wound, but the blood keeps coming, hot and slick between my fingers.
Her eyes find mine, glassy but soft. She lifts a trembling hand to my face, her palm smearing blood across my cheek. "You… need to run," she breathes. "Keep running, sweetheart. Don't stop."
Tears blur my vision. "But I can't leave you! I can't..."
"You're my shooting star," she whispers, her voice fading. "You've always been my light. So you have to keep shining, okay? For me."
She pushes me weakly, her hand slipping from mine.
Another whoosh of air screams past, close enough that it stings my skin. The man is getting closer. Cars lift and crumple like paper around him has he pushes them away. He's not even human, he can't be.
I can't breathe. My chest burns. Every part of me screams to stay, to help her.
But her voice echoes in my head. Run.
So I run.
I run until my lungs feel like fire, until my legs nearly give out beneath me. I don't look back. I can't. The world behind me is red and broken, and the sound of destruction follows me like thunder.
Somewhere in the distance, something explodes, metal, fire, screams. The smell of smoke and blood fills the air. I stumble, my vision tunneling, my heartbeat roaring in my ears.
I keep running. Until I can't anymore.
When I finally collapse, the earth is cold beneath me. My body trembles. My chest heaves. And then the tears come, harsh, unstoppable, until everything fades into black.
__________________________
When I wake up, everything feels too bright.The ceiling above me is white, unfamiliar, and the air smells like antiseptic. There are voices, hurried, low, serious, and the soft beeping of machines nearby. My throat is dry. My head feels heavy.
I blink slowly, my vision adjusting. The room comes into focus. Rows of beds. Nurses rushing between them. People crying. Bandages. Blood. The chaos of a hospital that's seen too much.
My chest tightens.
My clothes are gone, replaced by a hospital gown that feels stiff and cold against my skin. I look down at my arms; there's a bandage near my elbow, a small IV drip. My hands shake.
Where am I?Where's Mum? Where's Dad?
The memories come flooding back before I can stop them, the sound of wind, the screams, the blood, the car flipping through the air, Mum's voice telling me to run...
And just like that, it hits me.
They're gone.
The breath leaves my body all at once. I press my hands to my face, trying to stop it, but the tears come anyway, hot and unstoppable. I can't breathe. The sobs rack through me, shaking my whole body.
"I want to go home…" I whisper, but my voice sounds so small. So lost.
Home doesn't exist anymore.
I don't know how long I cry. Minutes. Hours. The world blurs around me until the noise of the ward fades into a distant hum.
A soft hand touches my shoulder. I flinch.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" a nurse asks. Her voice is gentle, but I can't meet her eyes. I just stare at the floor.
"Are you hurting anywhere?"
I shake my head, barely moving.
She hesitates, her hand lingering for a moment before pulling away. "Someone will be over soon to talk with you, okay?"
I don't answer. There's nothing to say.
Time drags on. People come and go. The sun outside shifts until the light spilling through the window turns orange. I just sit there, staring at my hands. They still smell faintly of blood.
Eventually, an older woman appears beside my bed. She walks slowly, a cane in one hand, but her eyes are kind, the kind that look at you and see everything without asking.
"Hello, my dear," she says softly. "I'm Sister Gray."
Her voice trembles just slightly, but it's warm, like an old blanket pulled over cold shoulders. "I'm so sorry for your loss."
Loss.
That word cuts deeper than any wound.
She pauses, studying me for a moment. "I'm from the orphanage," she continues gently. "There are so many patients here, and the hospital asked if we could take you in for now. We'll look after you, I promise."
An orphan.
The word echoes in my head like a cruel joke. Yeah… I guess that's what I am now.
I can't trust my voice, so I just nod.
She gives me a sad smile, then helps me to my feet. Her hand is cool but steady.
The car ride to the orphanage feels endless. The city outside the window looks different now, military trucks with the GenX logo take of the streets, and smoke rises somewhere in the distance. Nobody speaks. The silence feels heavy, like the whole world is holding its breath.
When we finally arrive, I almost expect the place to look dark and miserable. But it isn't.
The orphanage is old, but there are flowers by the gate. Kids are playing in a small yard, their laughter echoing faintly through the air. For a second, I just stand there, staring. How can anyone still laugh after what happened? I guess they don't know...
Sister Gray leads me inside, her cane tapping softly against the polished floor. "This will be your new home for a while," she says, showing me around. The halls smell faintly of soap and fresh bread. A few children peek around corners to see me. Some wave. I can't bring myself to wave back.
We stop at a small room at the end of the hall, plain, but clean. A single bed, a wooden desk, and a window overlooking the garden.
"You can rest here," she says. "I'll bring you something to eat later."
I sit on the bed. The mattress dips under my weight. My hands twist in my lap, searching for something to hold onto, but there's nothing.
Sister Gray lingers by the door. "I know things seem impossible now," she says softly. "But you must keep looking toward the future, child. There's always light waiting there."
The future.
Her words hang in the air long after she leaves.
If only I could look into the future sooner… maybe I could have seen the attacks coming. Maybe Mum and Dad wouldn't have...
I press my palms to my eyes. The images won't stop, blood, wind, screaming, her hand slipping from mine.
I lie back on the bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling. The sound of children laughing filters faintly through the window. It feels like another world, one I no longer belong to.
Outside, the sun dips below the horizon, and shadows crawl slowly across the walls.
And for the first time, I realise I'm truly alone.
_____________________
Days bled into months and the air got sharper, the kind of cold that makes you tuck your hands deeper into your sleeves. At first I kept to myself, I didn't want to talk, I barely wanted to breathe. But Mum's voice kept replaying in my head, gentle and stubborn: You have to keep shining, okay? For me. So slowly, like a light flickering back on, I started to talk.
I found myself drifting toward the other kids, answering little questions, showing the younger ones some tricks I once learnt at school. Being older here meant they looked up to me without even trying, and that responsibility gave me something to get out of bed for.
I learned to smile again, awkward and rusty at first, then easier. I laughed, small, then louder, and for a while it felt like I could carry on. But underneath it all the sadness hardened into something else. Anger, sharp and hot. I wanted that scarred man to hurt for what he did. I wanted revenge so badly it tasted like metal on my tongue.
The news said the man had stolen a crate of Lunex vials, and tried to run. After the carnage and terror he'd unleashed, a GeneX Guardian finally intercepted him and hauled him away. But I kept imagining him, bald head, that scar, over and over, and each image burned a hole in me.
December came with its usual cold and an extra kind of quiet. The orphanage got decked out with tired tinsel and paper snowflakes, and the kids got louder by the day, giddy about presents and hot chocolate. I was standing in the garden, watching the thin snow dust the roses, when Sister Gray came up to me with that soft, careful smile.
"There's someone here to see you," she said, and I followed her to the office, my boots leaving prints on the path.
When we stepped into the small, warm office it felt almost normal, at least until she closed the door and left. I stood there, suddenly aware of how alone the room felt. The man behind the desk didn't look like a criminal or a cop. He wore a suit that fit too well and a look that fit even better, precise, calm, like someone who had practiced being gentle. He rose and offered his hand.
"You are the boy who was caught up in the incident back in August, aren't you?" he asked, no preamble. His voice had the faintest clipped accent, the kind that makes people lean in.
My chest tightened. "Yeah," I said.
He perched on the edge of the desk and folded his hands. "I'll be direct. I work with an organisation that deals with children like you." He said it like it was a breed name. Children like you. The words landed strange in my mouth.
"Children like me?" I echoed, because I didn't know what else to do.
He nodded. "Special children." The phrase should have made me recoil, but it made something small in my chest stand up a little straighter. Special.
"Do you want to become strong?" he asked then, blunt and careful all at once. The question hit me like a stone. I stared at him before I even realised I was nodding. Yes. I wanted it so badly my fingers trembled. Strength. The ability to make that man pay. To never be helpless again.
"Then we have an opportunity for you" he continued, and he talked about Lunex trials like he was offering a scholarship. "We're recruiting children for controlled trials, monitored, structure... Carefully administered. We want to teach you to use whatever power you're given so you can be effective." He watched me the whole time, measuring.
My head spun. Lunex. Vials. Power. Training. Revenge... a word I didn't say out loud but felt flare behind my ribs. He seemed to know how to string the right words into a promise.
"Why me?" I managed, voice small.
"You were there," he said simply. "You survived. You saw. Survivors are valuable. And you have something, a look, an edge that makes you a good candidate." He smiled, but it was polite, not warm. "And you want to be stronger. That's useful to us and it's useful to you."
The room hummed. Snow tapped at the window. Inside me something both hopeful and wary warred. The orphanage had given me shelter and Sister Gray had given me a softness I hadn't expected to find, but this man, suited, and precise, was offering the one thing that could change everything. A future.
I wanted to ask the questions that screamed in my head: What would they do to me? Who else had gone through this? Were there strings? Would I be able to leave? But the words stuck, tiny and useless.
He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "We can help you, but it won't be easy. There will be tests, rules, expectations. You'll be trained and in return, you'll grow and become better"
He slid a card across the desk, thick, embossed. I held it like it might burn me. On it was a name I recognised, GeneX. Underneath, a small line of contact details and a curt instruction: Decide before the new year.
My mouth went dry. For a moment I saw Mum's face by the campfire again, heard Dad's quiet laugh as he set the last log on the flames. Run for me, Mum had said so I could survive.
But, maybe this was an opportunity I shouldn't run from.
_________________________________
When I finish my story, the room falls quiet, too quiet. My voice feels small against the weight of everything I've just said. It's strange… I used to think the sadness would eat me alive, but after all this time, I've learned how to keep it from swallowing me whole. Even the anger that once burned so bright has dimmed into a slow, steady ache.
I still want revenge someday… but that's not what drives me anymore. Not completely.
The silence stretches, but then I feel his eyes on me, dark and endless, like the night sky. When I look over, 004 watching me with this soft sadness that almost breaks me. He reaches out, with minor hesitation, before his fingers brush my cheek. He wipes away a tear I didn't even realise had fallen.
His touch is gentle, careful, and it sends warmth rushing through me, melting every little piece of cold that's ever been stuck inside my chest.
"Can I ask you something?" 004 says quietly.
"Yeah, of course," I answer, voice still shaky.
"Can I know your name?"
The question catches me completely off guard. My name… I haven't said it aloud in ages. We're not supposed to use them here. Numbers keep things detached, keep things safe. But something about the way he's looking at me makes me want to tell him.
"My name…" I hesitate for a heartbeat, then let the words fall. "My name is Ethan. Ethan Knox."
004 lips curve into a small, real smile. "Ethan…" he repeats softly, like he's testing how it sounds on his tongue. It makes my chest tighten. My name sounds… different when he says it. Warmer. Like it finally belongs again.
"What about you?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
"Kai. Kai Langford."
Kai... it suites him. It's beautfiful just like him.
but wait...
Langford. My stomach flips. Langford? As in Dr. Langford? Is Kai, his son? I want to ask, but before I can, Kai's hand moves, slowly, hesitantly, to the back of my head. His fingers slip into my hair, and my thoughts scatter.
His eyes meet mine again, and for a moment, everything else disappears. My heart starts racing so fast it almost hurts. He leans in, and I realise I'm leaning too, drawn to him like gravity itself.
Our faces only inches apart and time seems to stop moving.
Then our lips meet.
The world tilts and every nerve lights up. It feels like electricity, but warm, good, alive not like these collars on our necks. I gasp against his mouth, then pull him closer without thinking, deepening the kiss. The more we move, the more the air between us burns, until I can't tell where I end and he begins.
Kai shifts, and suddenly I'm on my back, his weight hovering over me. His breath fans across my skin, his lips tracing mine again and again until we both have to stop for air.
When he finally pulls back, his expression is dazed, almost lost. His eyes linger on my lips like he's fighting himself, and I feel heat rush up my neck.
He whispers, "Sorry…" but before he can say more, I loop my arms around his neck and pull him down into another kiss. This one's slower, deeper. Our tongues meet, and it sends a shiver all the way down to my fingertips.
His warms spreads through me and my mind goes numb.
When we break apart again, Kai drops his head onto my shoulder, breathing hard. His heartbeat pounds against my chest, matching mine. For a long time, neither of us moves.
Then I feel sense, just for a second, like the air around us changes. My eyes flash blue and I see it...
[Kai's voice trembles. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I didn't mean to… take advantage of you after you just told me all that."
And before I can answer, he slips off the bed and disappears behind the curtain, and into the bathroom. The sound of the door locking and he doesn't come out for a long time.]
Back to the present, and Kai begins to get up.
When he finally does, he looks… fragile.
"I'm sorry...," he begins to say, voice quiet.
I shake my head and quickly cut him off catching his arm at the same time. "Thank you for being here with me," I tell him softly. "You make being in this place feel less unbearable."
He freezes, caught between guilt and surprise, and for a second, I think he might still run. So I smile at him, the biggest, most honest smile I can manage.
"Can you stay next to me? Just for tonight?" I ask.
He hesitates, glancing toward the edge of the fort, then back at me. After a moment, he nods.
That warmth spreads through my chest again. He lies down beside me, still stiff at first, lost in thought. I watch him for a while, tracing the faint glow of the fake stars above us.
God, he's beautiful. Even when he's tired, even when he's broken, he's beautiful. I don't ever want him to face that pain alone again.
Before he can drift too far into his thoughts, I move closer and rest my head on his chest. His body tenses for a moment, then relaxes. My arm slips around him, keeping him there, partly a hug, partly a promise that I won't let him go.
He lie in silence just looking at the poorly drawn stars. Then his breathing steadies, soft and rhythmic, and soon his heartbeat slows beneath my ear. He's asleep. Completely, peacefully asleep.
I smile to myself and whisper, barely audible, "Sleep well, Kai. I'll make sure you always can."
For the first time in a long time, the room feels warm.