The morning arrived too quietly.
Sunlight slipped through the tall windows of the Swaries mansion, painting soft gold across marble floors and pale curtains, but nothing about the light felt warm. It felt intrusive — like it was exposing things that were meant to stay hidden.
Lily woke before the rest of the house.
He lay still in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his chest tight in a way sleep had not eased. His thoughts were tangled — memories of Ezekiel's arms, of his voice, of the way everything had almost gone too far the night before. His heart still reached for Ezekiel, but his body felt like it had learned something new.
Something dangerous.
He sat up slowly, pressing his palms against the mattress as though grounding himself. He told himself to breathe. To be normal. To act like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
Down the hall, Ezekiel was already awake.
He stood by the window in his room, looking out at the estate grounds, though he wasn't really seeing them. His thoughts were fixed on Lily — the way Lily had flinched, the way his eyes had filled with fear. Ezekiel had not meant to scare him. He had only meant to be honest. But honesty had almost turned into something he could never undo.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time in years, he was afraid of himself.
When Lily finally stepped into the hallway, he kept his head down. He moved quietly, like someone afraid of being noticed. But Ezekiel noticed anyway.
Always.
"Lily," Ezekiel said gently when he saw him. "Good morning."
Lily froze for a fraction of a second before turning.
"Good morning, sir," he replied politely.
Sir.
The word cut.
Ezekiel forced a small smile. "You don't have to call me that."
Lily nodded but didn't change how he spoke. He shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable.
"I need to help my uncle," he said quickly. "I'll be busy today."
Before Ezekiel could respond, Lily walked away.
Ezekiel stood there, staring at the space Lily had just left, something heavy pressing against his chest.
In another wing of the mansion, Lucas was awake too.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall. He had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard Jeremy's voice — desperate, broken, filled with something that made his skin crawl.
He hated feeling trapped.
And now, everywhere he went, he felt like he was being watched.
He changed quickly and left his room, hoping to avoid running into Jeremy. But fate, as always, had other plans.
Jeremy was standing in the hallway.
He looked terrible. His eyes were red, his face pale. He looked like someone who hadn't forgiven himself for something he couldn't erase.
"Lucas," he said quietly.
Lucas stopped but didn't turn around.
"I'm sorry," Jeremy whispered. "About yesterday. I shouldn't have—"
"Don't," Lucas said sharply, finally facing him. "Just don't."
The distance in his voice was worse than anger.
Jeremy swallowed. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"But you did," Lucas replied. "So give me space."
Jeremy nodded, stepping back.
Lucas walked away without another word, his hands shaking.
At breakfast, the tension was impossible to ignore.
Everyone was there — Ezekiel, Lily, Lucas, Jeremy — sitting at the same long table, pretending to be normal.
No one was.
Lily sat at the far end, eyes fixed on his plate. Ezekiel kept glancing at him, wanting to speak, to apologize, to explain — but he didn't know how to do any of that without making things worse.
Jeremy barely touched his food.
Lucas didn't look at him.
Finally, Ezekiel stood. "I have work to attend to today," he said calmly. "Lily, I might need your help later."
Lily's shoulders stiffened.
"Yes, sir," he replied.
Ezekiel winced.
When Lily stood to leave, Ezekiel reached out without thinking — just to stop him, just to feel that he was still there.
But Lily pulled his hand away.
Not violently.
Not angrily.
Just… gently.
And that gentle rejection hurt more than anything else ever had.
Ezekiel said nothing.
Neither did Lily.
By midday, the mansion felt like a house holding its breath.
Lucas locked himself in his room. Jeremy stood outside the door for a long time before finally walking away. Lily kept busy with chores he didn't need to do. Ezekiel buried himself in work he couldn't focus on.
They were all trying to escape the same thing:
Each other.
But love, once it takes root, does not fade quietly.
It waits.
And it grows.
Lucas was in his room when the phone rang.
The sound startled him. He hadn't been expecting a call — especially not from her.
His mother's name flashed across the screen.
For a moment, he just stared at it.
He hadn't spoken to her properly in a long time. Their relationship was complicated, filled with old wounds and words that had never been said. Still, something in his chest tightened as he answered.
"Hello?"
Her voice came through weak and shaky.
"Lucas… please. I need to see you."
He could hear the strain in her breathing. It sounded like she had been crying.
"Just once," she said. "Come and see me. This might be the last time I ever talk to you."
Those words froze him.
"What do you mean?" Lucas asked quietly.
"I don't know how much time I have," she whispered. "But I don't want to go without seeing you."
Lucas closed his eyes.
Despite everything, she was still his mother. The past didn't erase that.
"I'll come," he said. "I promise."
After he hung up, he sat there for a long moment, his heart heavy. He didn't tell anyone where he was going. Part of him didn't want questions. Part of him was afraid of what he might hear.
He grabbed his jacket and left the mansion.
The city felt different as he traveled. The streets were loud, filled with cars and strangers, but inside Lucas everything was quiet. He kept replaying his mother's voice in his head — fragile, desperate.
Was she really dying?
Was she just afraid of being alone?
He never got to find out.
Halfway down a narrow road, a dark vehicle slowed beside him. Lucas barely noticed it at first. He was too lost in thought.
Then the door opened.
Hands grabbed him.
"What—?" he started to shout, but someone covered his mouth. He struggled, panic rushing through him, but they were stronger. His phone slipped from his hand and hit the pavement, the screen cracking as his mother's voice kept calling his name through the speaker.
"Lucas? Lucas, are you there?"
He was dragged into the vehicle.
The door slammed shut.
The car sped away.
His cries were swallowed by the road.
By the time the phone went silent, Lucas was already gone — taken into a darkness no one at the mansion even knew existed.