Brandon's POV
I didn't go straight to my mother's room. I told myself I would. I even climbed down the stairs with that intention. But halfway down the hallway, my feet slowed and then stopped entirely, as if my body understood the weight of what I was about to do before my mind could catch up.
I had never snooped through my parents' things. Not once as a kid did I disrespect their privacy; I had an almost obsessive loyalty to it. My mother's room had always felt sacred—untouchable. It was the one place that still smelled of order and discipline, like the woman who had held this family together with sheer willpower long before everything shattered. The one time I tried snooping in her room, I was almost caught—by Elizabeth. That day, it felt like I held my heart in my hands, and I thought I was going to die. I promised myself I would never attempt this again.
