When "Iris" ends, "Name" starts playing next, and it feels like this moment will stay frozen in time forever. Me looking down at the boy with sad eyes who deserves a whole damn sky full of stars.

I make a serious promise to myself right then—I'll never ever let him go. I'll always be there for him, just like this, holding on to him until all the bad stuff goes away.

Until nobody can hurt him ever again.

Nate falls asleep in my lap while the music plays in our ears. His head feels heavy against me, and looking at him, I know for sure that this is the boy I love. Even if he's a little bit messy and a little bit damaged, he's perfect to me.

I don't know much about fighting monsters, but loving Nate is like the first time I heard my favorite song—I knew it would be my favorite forever.

And he was my favorite. Forever.

33. Happy Birthday Jake

CHAPTER 33

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAKE

NATE

PRESENT DAY

It's quiet. Too quiet as I step through the front door of the lake house. The air feels wrong—thick and suffocating, like the walls are closing in around me. My lungs struggle against the heaviness as I scan the empty living room. This place is supposed to be peaceful, but this silence? It's the kind that makes your skin crawl, the kind that warns you something's terribly wrong.

Then I see her.

Mom, lying there on the floor, her body contorted at impossible angles. Her face is ashen, eyes vacant, staring into nothingness. Blood seeps into the floorboards beneath her, spreading like dark watercolors on wet paper. My legs lock up, refusing to carry me closer, refusing to let me accept this reality. But it's real. And it's my fault.

"Mom!" The scream tears from somewhere deep inside me, my voice shattering like glass. "No, no, no, NO!"

I collapse to my knees, trembling hands reaching for her lifeless body. I pull her into my lap as if my touch alone could breathe life back into her. The panic claws up my throat, turning my vision blurry, my breaths coming in sharp, desperate gasps.

How did I let this happen?

I'm rocking back and forth, clutching her close when I hear it—a voice cutting through the chaos in my head. Soft. Familiar. Her voice.

"Nate..."

I freeze, my heart stumbling. For a moment, I think I've finally lost it completely.

Her voice pulls me up from the darkness. But this can't be real. None of this is real.

"Nate, wake up," she whispers again, closer now.

I blink, disoriented, as Mom's body slips from my grip. The floor tilts beneath me, reality shifting like sand through an hourglass. The blood fades, the walls blur, and when I look down again, it's not Mom I'm holding.

It's me. Lifeless.