[Keifer's POV]
The silence that followed the slamming of the dining room doors was more violent than the shouting. I stood there, my chest heaving, my knuckles white as I gripped the back of my chair. The echoes of my own words—"Maybe she is!"—replayed in my head like a corrupt file, mocking me.
I had won the argument, but as I watched Jay's retreating back, I felt like I had just liquidated my own soul.
"Keifer," Mamma's voice was like a whip. "You are an absolute fool."
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I turned to walk away, to go to the gym and hit something until the world made sense, but then we heard it.
SLAM.
It wasn't just a door closing. It was the heavy, reinforced oak door of the Blue Suite being thrown shut with a force that rattled the chandeliers in the hallway. Then, the sound of the heavy deadbolt clicking into place.
I froze. A cold, prickling sensation started at the back of my neck. Jay never locked that door. Not from me.
"Jay?" I called out, my voice losing its edge, replaced by a sudden, sharp spike of anxiety.
I walked toward the stairs, my pace quickening. By the time I reached the landing, I was running. Mamma, Pappa, and even Keigan were right behind me. We reached the door, and I grabbed the handle. It didn't budge.
"Jay! Open the door!" I hammered on the wood. "Jay, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it—just open the door!"
Silence. Not a sob. Not a footstep. Just a terrifying, hollow vacuum of sound.
The Surge of Fear
One minute passed. Then two. My "CEO logic" was failing. I started running through the worst-case scenarios—system failures, emotional collapses, physical harm. The fear that hit me wasn't like anything I'd felt in a boardroom. It was a primal, suffocating terror. What if I had broken her? What if the "Constant" was so damaged it had to shut down for good?
"Jay-Jay, sweetheart, please talk to Mamma," Serina pleaded, her hand over mine on the doorframe.
I began to throw my shoulder against the door. "Jay! If you don't open this door in five seconds, I'm breaking the hinges! I swear to God, Jay!"
I was frantic. I was losing my mind. I started looking for something to use as a ram, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it was painful. I had never felt so powerless. I owned the world, but I couldn't get through two inches of oak to the only person who mattered.
"Jay! Please!" my voice cracked, the "Cold Prince" completely shattered. "I'm an idiot! I'm sorry! Just let me know you're okay!"
The Opening
Suddenly, the lock clicked.
The sound was so small, but in the silence of the hallway, it sounded like a thunderclap. We all stepped back.
The door creaked open only a few inches. Jay stood there, but she wasn't the "Empress" anymore. She looked small, her shoulders slumped, her knuckles raw from where she'd clearly been gripping the furniture.
But it was her eyes that destroyed me.
They weren't just red from crying; they were blood-red, the capillaries burst from the sheer intensity of her sobbing and the stress of the fight. They looked haunted, empty of the "Glow" that usually guided me home. She looked at me, and there was no anger left—only a vast, cold distance that felt like a death sentence.
"Jay..." I reached out, my hand trembling.
She didn't look at my hand. She didn't even look at my face. Her gaze shifted past me to Mamma.
"Mamma," she whispered, her voice a ghost of itself. "Just Mamma."
She stepped back, opening the door just wide enough for Serina to slip through. I tried to follow, my foot crossing the threshold, but Jay's hand—cold as ice—pressed against my chest. She didn't push; she just stood there.
"Not you, Keifer," she breathed, her eyes meeting mine for one agonizing second. "You stay with your decimal points. I need a mother."
She closed the door in my face.
The click of the lock felt like a bullet. I stood in the hallway, staring at the wood, the silence returning ten times heavier than before. I had been locked out of my own life.