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"I should have been there."

The room changes. Not physically. Emotionally. Carys looks away.

"Morrow is here because someone lied to both of us."

"He deserves answers."

Carys's face softens slightly.

"He does."

The words are quiet. I study Morrow. He has been watching us the entire time. Not like a kid watching adults argue. Like someone analyzing evidence. Like he is trying to understand how two pieces of a puzzle fit together.

"What happened?" I ask.

Carys hesitates. I notice.

"You don't have to protect me."

A humorless smile crosses her face.

"You haven't changed."

"I have no response to that."

"You always thought protecting people meant making decisions for them."

The accusation lands because it is true.

"I was trying to help."

"I know."

That surprises me.

"That's the worst part."

Before I can respond, Morrow speaks.

"The door moved."

Both of us turn.

"What?"

"The attic door."

Carys goes still. I look at her.

"What is he talking about?"

She doesn't answer.

"Morrow."

The boy looks between us.

"There was writing."