Diego ran. Every step carried the weight of years spent in the Monaghan estate, years of suffocating expectation, blood-stained traditions, and a life he had never wanted. The gates behind him disappeared into the night, swallowed by distance and shadow, leaving only the cold, indifferent world ahead.As he crossed the threshold, Dominic Monaghan stood framed in the doorway like a statue carved from moonlight and malice. His face was an immovable mask, eyes burning with slow, deliberate anger. Dominic did not move. He watched his son run.Diego didn’t look back. He had rehearsed this moment for years in his mind; now that it was real, his legs propelled him faster than fear alone could explain.A few strides, then more, and the estate fell behind him, but Dominic’s gaze remained, cold and deliberate. The patriarch waited until Diego was several paces beyond the gate, his silhouette shrinking against the dark, before stepping away. His voice, low and steel-edged, cut through the night

The sunlight was soft, warm, and diffuse, spilling across the room in gentle gold. Diego blinked against it, muscles stiff, body still aching from the night’s flight. For a moment, he simply lay there, listening: the faint clatter of dishes, the tiny footsteps of a child moving carefully along the floor. He was happy and free for now. Just then a small voice broke the quiet. “Do you want to come downstairs?” the girl asked, peeking around the doorway. Her eyes were wide and curious, cautious but gentle. “Mummy’s making breakfast.” Breakfast… Diego thought, the word echoing oddly in his mind. It was calm, unassuming, offered with warmth and care, nothing like the sharp commands, the cold rituals, or the blood-stained meals of the Monaghan estate. Breakfast, he repeated silently. They… they actually said it like that. For me. His stomach tightened at the novelty. For centuries, he had eaten only what the housekeeper had sneaked him at night, scraps of bread, stolen fruit, small kind

The warm glow of the dining room surrounded them as the family gathered around the table. Plates were set with care: roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, fresh vegetables, and a small pitcher of juice. For Diego, it was more than a meal, it was a ceremony of normalcy he had never known, centuries of rigid structure and cruelty forgotten for a moment. Claire dug in eagerly, her little hands moving quickly between bites. Mara smiled, watching her daughter, then looked at Diego. “So, Claire, how was school today?” “School was cool,” Claire replied, a bright smile lighting her small face. “But… my teacher, Mrs. Mira, gave me lots of homework.” She glanced at Diego with expectant eyes. “Uncle Liam, can you help me with my homework later?” Diego hesitated, caught between uncertainty and instinct. The idea of interacting with a human child, of guiding her, was foreign. Yet… there was a warmth in her voice, an openness he hadn’t heard in centuries. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he said, his

Morning sunlight spilled through the curtains, soft and golden, chasing away the remnants of the nightmare that had haunted the night. Diego woke with a quiet gasp, sitting upright on the small bed. Sweat clung to his skin, though the room was cool. The dream, no, the memory, still echoed in his mind: the Monaghan hall, the chains, his father’s voice booming “Monaghan don’t run from blood, they feast.” And then Claire’s voice breaking through the darkness, crying, “No, Uncle Liam!” He pressed a trembling hand to his chest. The line between past and present was thinning again. A soft knock came at the door. “Uncle Liam? Breakfast’s ready!” Claire’s voice sang, pulling him back into the light. He took a deep breath, composing himself before opening the door. Claire was already skipping down the hallway, her laughter echoing like music he didn’t deserve. At the table, Mara was setting plates, while Thomas scanned through the morning news on his tablet. The smell of toast and coffe

The morning came, and Diego sat down, his thoughts still lingering on last night’s events.He only had three days, three days to enjoy what he had always longed for: human life, freedom, family warmth. And now it was going to be over soon.“Uncle Liam!” Claire’s cheerful voice broke his thoughts as she bounded into his room.“You’re up! Wanna help me feed the birds later?”He forced a small smile. “Sure.”She then dragged him down to the living room.Mara glanced over her shoulder. “You look tired, dear. Did you sleep at all last night?”Diego shook his head lightly. “Not really. Just… needed some air.”Thomas poured coffee, giving him a curious look. “Still adjusting, huh? Don’t worry, it takes time.”Time. He wished he had more of it.“Mummy, Uncle Liam is going to follow me feed the birds later,” Claire said.“Okay, honey, but after that, then we’ll head to the market,” Mara replied.“Okay, Mummy,” Claire said.They sat at the dining table as breakfast was already set. Diego forced