"Maybe... But I'm taking care of you." She said gently, her hand grazing his cheek. "And part of that means making sure you heal properly. Since I already took two weeks off. You can do the same." Killian watched her in silence for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Alright. You win. I'll call the office." "Good." She said with a bright smile. "That means you're stuck with me. And you better obey me, else I'll punish you." Janelle said. "You're not planning on leaving are you?" "No." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She smiled, brushing his hair back gently. "I moved away with all my stuff, so I'll have to… um… borrow yours." Killian grinned, his voice low and teasing. "Of course. My girlfriend is free to do whatever she wants." She flushed, but didn't argue. This, this was exactly where she wanted to be. ***** George, Ian Thorn's stepson, walked alone through the dimming streets. School had ended hours ago, but he still hadn't made it

"Come on." She said softly, wrapping a comforting arm around him. "Let's get you cleaned up." Owen slouched dramatically in the driver's seat of the car as Janelle and George slid into the back. "I can't believe I've been demoted to family chauffeur." Owen muttered, eyeing Janelle in the rearview mirror. "Keep whining and I'll make you carry George on your back." Janelle retorted. "Do I look like a pack mule to you?" "A little." She smirked. George gave a small, tired chuckle, and Janelle looked over at him with a smile, relieved to see at least a trace of light in his expression. "We're taking you to Dad's." she said gently to him. "You can rest there for a bit. I'll explain everything." She said but she saw hesitation in George's eyes. Owen groaned. "Great. Another detour. Next thing I know I'm picking up dry cleaning for Agnes." He scoffed. "You're doing this out of love and sibling duty. And no one asked you to pick up dry cleaned clothes." Janelle said sweetly

"My mom didn't know at first. I got good at hiding it. Until one day she caught me crying alone in the hallway. I lied. Said it was nothing. But she knew, she somehow did. She held me tight, she didn't push me away. Just told me I didn't have to pretend with her." She smiled faintly at the memory. "It took time... But I healed." Killian shifted, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "You're incredible, you know that?" She blushed. "No, I'm not." "You are." He leaned in, kissing her forehead first. "For standing up for George. For forgiving your parents. For letting me in, even when I didn't deserve it." Their eyes met, she cupped his face gently, mindful of his injury, and whispered. "You do deserve it." He kissed her then, slow, tender, lingering with all the things he hadn't said yet. And she kissed him back, her fingers tangling in his shirt. When they finally pulled apart, Killian rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you for being here. For being you." "I'm not going

“I… I don’t know how to stop fighting anymore,” June admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Then stop,” Leon said gently. “Let her live. Let us all live. Enough of these battles. The war for status is killing us all.” For a long moment, no one moved. Then Amelia walked toward her mother and reached out slowly. “Mum… I don’t hate you. I just need you to let me go.” June looked at her daughter, eyes rimmed red. “And if he breaks your heart?” “Then I’ll break,” Amelia said. “But it’ll be my break to heal from. Not yours to decide.” The older woman looked at both her husband and daughter. For once, she seemed outnumbered not by force, but by truth. And perhaps, a part of her knew they were right. Still, pride is a difficult cage to walk out of. “I need time,” June murmured, walking away from the window toward the hallway. “I need time to understand all this.” Leon nodded. “Take your time. But don’t use it building more walls.” As she disappeared up the staircase, the tension