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Chapter 43 — Part 3
POV Gabriel
Avery's breathing gradually steadied beneath my hands.
The tension left her muscles—slowly at first, then all at once, like someone had cut a string.
Her eyelids fluttered.
Then closed.
"Avery?" I called immediately.
No response.
My heart skipped a beat.
I looked up at Lauren.
"She just fell asleep," she said quickly. "It's normal."
Normal.
After what I had just seen, that word didn't mean much anymore.
Lauren briefly placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder to check her breathing.
"Her body is releasing the pressure. The aftershock. She needs sleep."
I stayed frozen for another second.
Watching for any sign.
Then I finally exhaled, my own lungs seeming to remember how to work again.
"What did you inject her with?"
Lauren was already putting the syringe away.
"A sedative. Nothing else."
She looked up at me.
"Take her upstairs. She'll be better there."
I hesitated.
Part of me refused to move her.
But Avery was truly asleep now—her grip on my jacket had loosened.
So I nodded.
I picked her up in my arms.
She didn't wake.
I left the living room behind, along with Daniel, Will… and Lauren.
---
(Living room POV — external narration)
Lauren stood still for a moment, drained.
Will immediately stepped forward to help her up and picked up her bag.
"Are you okay?" he murmured.
She nodded.
Yes.
For now.
But as she moved, something fell from the bag.
A small object rolled near Daniel's foot.
He bent down and picked it up without the adults noticing.
Then he looked up.
"Can someone finally explain what's going on?" he asked.
"What was that episode?"
Lauren exchanged a quick glance with Will.
One of those looks filled with things you don't want to say.
"It was nothing," she finally answered.
"Avery has had anxiety attacks before. This one was just stronger."
Will gave her an incredulous look.
Really?
Daniel let out a faint scoff.
"You really think I'm going to buy that?"
Lauren searched for her words.
Too late.
"Hey—this," Daniel said, raising his hand.
The empty vial gleamed between his fingers.
His mother's face changed.
"That's not a sedative like you said."
"And how would you know?" she shot back—too quickly.
Daniel clenched his jaw.
"Because I have a parent who's a nurse. You.
And that? That's not a sedative."
She snatched the vial from his hand.
"It's a new type of—"
"Yellow? With a hint of verbena?" he cut in.
"I'm not that stupid, Mom."
Silence fell again.
Tense.
Heavy.
Lauren searched for a way out.
"It's—"
"Lauren," Will said gently, "why don't you just tell him?"
She turned toward him.
Betrayed.
"Tell me what?" Daniel asked.
"Nothing that concerns you," she cut in immediately.
"Now go do… whatever.
And don't disturb your sister."
The look she gave Will was clear: don't make this worse.
Daniel rolled his eyes.
"Fine."
He stepped back toward the hallway.
Then stopped.
"But don't forget one thing. The truth always comes out."
He locked eyes with his mother one last time.
"If you're looking for me… I'll be busy doing whatever."
And he left.
---
The upstairs door had barely closed when silence fell again.
A real silence this time.
The kind that lingers after a storm.
Lauren still held the empty vial in her hand, her fingers clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Will ran a hand over his face.
"He figured it out."
It wasn't a reproach.
Just a fact.
Lauren closed her eyes for a second.
"He's still a child."
Will looked at her.
"No. Not anymore."
She swallowed.
She knew that.
That was exactly the problem.
Will lowered his voice.
"We won't be able to lie to them forever."
"I'm not trying to lie forever!" she snapped, faster than she intended.
"I'm trying to buy time!"
Her voice broke on the last words.
Time.
As if it had ever helped before.
Will stepped closer.
Softer.
"Time for what, Lauren?"
She hesitated.
Looked toward the stairs.
As if saying it out loud might wake something.
"Time to find a solution," she whispered.
"Before he comes to take her from me."
They stood still.
They both knew who she meant.
And neither of them wanted to say his name.
Will took a slow breath.
"Avery already knows," he said.
She nodded.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"And Daniel will figure it out too."
She didn't answer.
Because it was true.
And the truth was moving faster than they were.
---
Meanwhile
Daniel didn't go up to his room.
Of course not.
He stayed in the hallway, motionless, his heart beating too fast for someone who had just been told everything was fine.
Anxiety attack.
Yeah. Right.
And unicorns carpool.
He opened his hand.
The vial was there. Real. Full.
Not imaginary.
Not exaggerated.
He brought it to his nose.
The scent was faint, but he recognized it almost instantly.
He had grown up with it.
"Verbena…" he muttered.
Since when do you inject that to calm someone down?
Since when was his mother using things she never talked about at home?
His mind raced faster than his heart.
The puzzle pieces came back.
The lies.
The half-answers.
The way they always kept Avery and him away from certain conversations.
Gabriel's presence.
The fear in his mother's eyes.
This wasn't new.
He had just decided to stop pretending he didn't see it.
But tonight…
tonight, someone had tried to kill his sister.
And they still wanted to talk to him about stress.
He looked up toward the stairs.
Toward Avery's room.
His stomach tightened.
"What are you mixed up in, Ari…?"
His voice was softer than he intended.
Then another thought came.
Colder.
What have they dragged all of us into?
He took a deep breath.
Okay.
Fine.
Message received.
No one was going to tell him the truth.
So he would do what he always did when adults decided to be useless.
He would find out himself.
He slipped the vial into his pocket.
And for the first time, Daniel understood something important.
If they kept treating him like a child…
they were going to be very surprised by what a child could uncover.
---