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I nod and tap my fingers against my knee, ruminating on this information. I can’t believe I was naive enough to think that Dr. Thornton was innocent. Now I’m convinced he’s involved in the center closing.
Something occurs to me and I look up. “Where did his uncle live?”
“Few hours away. Why?”
“No reason,” I say, waving a hand.
Something about all this isn’t adding up. Dr. Thornton mentioned he inherited the manor home from a relative, but if his uncle lived hours away, why would he have a home here?
“Thank you for your time,” I add, realizing I’ve gone quiet for too long. “I’m going to go now. You answered all my questions.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Lorna says, standing up to walk me to the door. “Can I ask what you’re trying to find out?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I tell her. “But I’ll let you know when I do.”
Taking off, I drive back home, hoping the boys haven’t come back yet. The Firebird isn’t there when I pull up, so I breathe a sigh of relief.
Lorna's words replay in my mind, casting a shadow of doubt over everything I thought I knew. The pieces of the puzzle are starting to fit together, but one crucial piece remains elusive: Dr. Thornton's true involvement.
The more I learn, the more questions arise, and a sinking feeling settles in my chest. What if Dr. Thornton isn't who he claims to be? What if his connection to the Haven Center's closure runs deeper than anyone suspects?
As I pull into the driveway, I'm torn between confronting Dr. Thornton or sharing what I’ve learned with the boys. The thought of shattering their illusion even further brings an ache to my chest. I can’t do that to them, can I?
41
DOMINIC
Iwake to the suffocating weight of bodies pressing against me. Sienna insisted I join her and Bastian in his bed last night. Now, as I blink away sleep, it feels too crowded, too much. I have to get up.
Sienna stirs beside me, her breathing shallow and uneven. She slept poorly, tossing and turning all night, clearly struggling with the looming presence of the upcoming conflict. She's trying to be strong, but her fear is palpable, the anxiety radiating off of her even in her sleep.
Checking my phone, I see a text from Caleb. He’s gone for a morning run, promising to be back soon. His absence is keenly felt, a silent reminder of the impending storm gathering on the horizon.
Bastian’s voice breaks the uneasy silence, his words carrying the weight of our shared burden. “We need to figure out who’s going to stay with Sienna,” he says, his tone clipped.
My chest tightens with a surge of protectiveness. “What do you mean?” I ask softly, trying to keep my voice low to avoid waking Sienna.
“When the fight happens, one of us needs to stay behind with her,” he says, staring at the blankets. “They already tried to use her against us once before. If we leave her here alone during the fight, we leave her vulnerable.”
“I’ll stay,” I offer. “Sienna will be safe with me.”
“You can’t,” Bastian says, frowning as he looks up at me. “You’re too important. I think me or Caleb should stay.”
“Bas, you’re the leader here. You can’t stay behind,” I point out.
“If it means protecting her, then I’ll stay,” he insists. “She means everything to me, to us. I can’t let her be here alone.”
“We can’t afford to lose you from this fight,” I tell him, slipping out of the bed. If this is going to turn into an argument, I don’t want to wake Sienna. “You’re too valuable as our leader.”
Bastian follows me, stuffing his feet into slippers. “Maybe Caleb should stay behind then,” he suggests. “He’d be the best one to leave with her. He’s smart and quick-thinking. He knows how to get out of tough situations. If we leave him with Sienna, he can protect her more than just physically.”
“That’s a good point,” I say as we head down the stairs. I walk over to the coffee maker and turn it on, needing the ritual to soothe my agitation. “But just so you’re aware, it won’t be an easy sell. Caleb won’t want to be left behind.”
“We’ll have to talk to him when he returns,” Bastian says, shrugging. Sitting down at the table, he sighs. “I gotta call Sal soon. He and Tommy are on patrol right now, keeping an eye out for the Serpents.”
A beam of sunlight streams through the kitchen window, casting shadows across Bastian as he checks his phone. I can’t help but notice the worry lines on his face, the tension in his shoulders. He’s been trying to hold everything at bay for so long by himself, but we’re not alone anymore.
“It’s been a lot easier since we let other people join in,” I say, handing him a cup of coffee. “I know you were against it before, but it feels like it was the right call to make.”
