Page 44 of Unfinished Noise

Only then did he nod and head for the door. “Good. They know you’re safe. I’m leaving.” The door shut behind him.

Jamie exhaled, heart pounding, phone still pressed to his ear.

“Daddy Spencer?” he whispered.

Jamie stood in the living room, phone warm in his hand, heart thudding hard enough to make his fingers shake. Alfie hovered on the other side of the room, chewing his thumbnail, eyes wide and anxious. It was so quiet in the house, almost as if it were holding its breath.

Spencer’s voice came through the phone, low and tight. “Jamie, are you okay?”

Jamie swallowed. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about anything. “I wrote you a note to explain.”

“Yes, you did,” Spencer said. His tone wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t calm either. It sat somewhere in the middle—controlled, strained. “Are you okay?”

Jamie’s chest tightened. “Yes. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Spencer exhaled, and Jamie could hear movement in the background—maybe pacing, maybe running a hand through his hair the way he did when he was stressed. “I want you to open your email. There are two tickets to Fresno. You and Alfie had better be on the plane. Nathan and I will pick you up. Do you understand me?”

Jamie’s stomach dropped. But the seriousness in his voice made Jamie’s pulse spike.

“Yes, Daddy Spencer,” Jamie whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Just get on that plane with Alfie. See you soon.”

Jamie closed his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The call ended, leaving the room painfully silent.

Jamie lowered his phone slowly, fingers still trembling from Spencer’s voice in his ear. He wasn’t sure if Spencer was angry or worried. Maybe both. The tone had been firm—too firm—but not cold. Spencer didn’t yell. Spencer didn’t sound disappointed. But he also didn’t sound okay.

Jamie’s stomach twisted.

I have to get on that plane. No matter what.

Across the room, Alfie stood frozen with his own phone pressed to his chest. His cheeks were blotchy, eyes wide. Nathan must’ve said something heavy.

Jamie stepped closer. “Hey… what did Daddy Nathan say?”

Alfie swallowed hard. “He told me to be on the plane. Same as I assume Spencer told you.” His voice wobbled. “And he… apologized. For yelling. He said he shouldn’t have been mean.”

Jamie nodded, relief mixing with guilt. “Good. You needed to hear that.”

Alfie looked down at his shoes. “I didn’t want him mad at me.”

Jamie reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “He’s not mad now. He wants you safe.”

Alfie nodded again, more firmly this time.

Jamie took a breath, steadying himself.

Jamie said, “Spencer bought us plane tickets. We need to be on the two p.m. flight.”

Alfie’s shoulders dropped with visible relief. “Okay. Yeah. We need to get ready now.”

Jamie grabbed his bag and yanked it open, shoving clothes inside without checking sizes or colors. His hands shook so badly he kept missing the zipper, stuffing shirts in sideways, socks tangled in the corners. Every motion felt rushed, frantic driven by the image of Spencer’s voice on the phone, steady but strained, the tone Spencer used when he was holding himself together for Jamie’s sake. His mind spun with possibilities—Spencer hurt, Spencer disappointed, Spencer worried—and each one made him pack faster, like getting on that plane was the only way to stop the spiral.

But he knew one thing: He had better get on that plane.