Chapter 33
SOPHIE
The door creaks softly as Beck pushes it open, his hand still warm in mine.
His mom’s room is small and has just what she needs, but nothing extra. No vases or picture frames, a few photos sit in a stack on a shelf that seems to be built into the wall, the edges rounded.
She’s sitting in a chair near the window, knees pulled up. Her hair is streaked with silver, twisted into a loose braid, and her fingers pick nervously at the hem of her sleeve.
When Beck steps inside, she startles slightly, just a quick jerk of her head, but then her expression shifts. A flicker of recognition passes through her eyes as she looks at him.
“Beckett?” she says, voice light and uncertain.
He lets out a slow breath and gives her a soft smile. “Hey, Mom.”
Her face softens. “You came.”
“Of course I did.”
We step further inside, and he gently guides me toward the second chair near her bed. “This is Sophie,” he adds quietly.
Lynn turns her gaze to me. It’s sharp at first, as if she’s searching my face for something, then it settles into something curious. “Sophie,” she repeats. “You’re very pretty.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Harrison. It’s really nice to meet you.”
Her hands flutter nervously, but her smile widens a little. “It’s been a long time since Beckett brought someone to visit.”
Beck clears his throat softly, pulling a chair up beside her. “We’re working on a project for class,” he explains, his voice careful.
She nods as if that makes sense, though her gaze drifts toward the corner of the ceiling for a beat too long. Her fingers start picking faster at the blanket.
“They’re watching again,” she murmurs.
My stomach tightens, but I keep my voice gentle. “Who’s watching, Mrs. Harrison?”
Her eyes snap to mine, wide and intense. “Them,” she whispers, leaning forward as if to share a secret. “They’ve been following me all day. Out in the courtyard. I saw them in the trees. They think I don’t know, but I do. I always know.”
Beck’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. I can see him slipping into that familiar, quiet mode—bracing himself like he’s done this before.
I lean forward slightly, hands resting loosely on my knees. “That sounds scary,” I say softly. “But you’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you.”
She blinks at me, almost surprised by my tone. “Safe?” she echoes, like she’s testing the word.
“Yes,” I say. “You’re safe. Beck’s here. I’m here. And the nurses are just down the hall.”
For a moment, her breathing eases. But then her eyes flick back to the corner of the room, and her fingers start to tremble.
“They’re getting closer,” she whispers. Her voice rises a notch.
“You don’t understand. They have plans. They’re waiting for me to slip up.
They talk when the lights go off. I hear them. ”
Beck reaches for her hand, his voice quiet but firm. “Mom—”
She jerks back slightly, her movements suddenly sharper. “No, no, no. You have to listen!” she insists, her voice climbing with each word. “You can’t just sit there. You have to believe me.”
The intensity in her eyes makes the room feel smaller, the air tighter. But I stay where I am, keeping my voice calm and low. “Mrs. Harrison, I believe that it feels very real to you. I do. But you’re safe. You’re here with us.”
For a heartbeat, it seems like she might come back down. Her eyes flicker between us—her son and the stranger sitting beside him. But then her voice spikes again, louder, more panicked. “No, no, they’re outside right now, they’re outside right now—”
The door opens quietly, and the nurse from the front desk slips in, her presence calm and practiced. “Hi, Lynn,” she says gently. “It sounds like you’re having a hard time right now.”
Lynn’s eyes dart to her, then back to the window. “They’re here,” she whispers hoarsely.
The nurse crouches beside her, speaking in soft, rhythmic tones I recognize from clinical rotations. “Let’s take a deep breath together, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it…”
It takes a few minutes, but slowly Lynn’s breathing starts to calm. Her hands unclench from the blanket, though her gaze stays fixed on the window.
The nurse glances up at Beck and me with an apologetic smile. “She’s been a bit more agitated this week. I think it might be best to keep the visit short today.”
Beck’s expression is tight, controlled, but I can see the hurt flickering beneath it. He nods. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll come back another day.”
Lynn looks at him, confusion replacing the panic for just a second. “You’ll come back?” she asks softly.
He leans forward, brushing his hand gently over hers. “Always,” he says.
She gives the smallest nod, like a child needing reassurance, and the nurse gently guides us toward the door.
Out in the hallway, the air feels cooler. Beck drags a hand through his hair, letting out a breath that’s more like a quiet collapse.
I slip my hand back into his. “You handled that so well,” I say softly.
He shakes his head. “I’m used to it.” But his voice wavers, just a fraction.
I squeeze his hand tighter. “Still. It’s not easy.”
He finally looks at me then—really looks. And in his eyes, I see the weight of years of visits like this, of loving someone whose reality keeps shifting beneath her feet. And I hope, silently, that he knows he doesn’t have to carry that weight alone anymore.
The late afternoon sun is dipping lower by the time we step out of the building, and Beck lets go of my hand only long enough to unlock the truck.
Once we’re inside, he leans back against the headrest and blows out a long, frustrated breath.
“I feel bad saying it,” he mutters, voice low, “but…it’s hard to make myself want to come here often.”
I turn toward him, silent but listening.
“She’s my mom. I know that.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel, not starting the engine yet.
“And I love her. But every time I walk in, it’s like…
” He shakes his head, jaw flexing. “Like I have to brace myself to lose her all over again. And I guess…I’ve got a lot to work through before I can be okay coming here more and more. ”
My chest aches for him, but I don’t fill the silence with platitudes. He doesn’t need someone to fix it—he just needs someone to hear it.
I reach over and rest my hand lightly over his. “That makes sense, Beck. It’s okay to feel that way.”
His shoulders ease, just barely, and he finally starts the truck. “Thanks,” he murmurs.
The drive back toward campus is quiet for a few minutes. The sky is streaked with gold and rose, light spilling through the trees as the road curves back toward town. Then his phone, propped in the center console, lights up with Caroline flashing across the screen.
He taps the answer button on the wheel. “Hey, Care.”
“Hey, yourself,” Caroline chirps through the speakers. “You coming for dinner tonight?”
Beck glances at me quickly, then back to the road. “Uh, hadn’t really decided yet.”
“Well, decide now,” she says, mock-stern. “Burgers are on the grill. You know your dad’s going to make too many, and you’re the designated human disposal unit.”
He laughs under his breath. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll come,” she says with the unshakable confidence of a little sister who knows exactly how to get her way. “Oh, is Logan coming?”
Beck’s throat clears loudly. “No…but, you’re on speaker, and I’m…not alone in the car.”
There’s a beat of silence, followed by a very confused, “Ohhh…”
“Sophie is with me,” Beck fills in.
“Sophie! What a pretty name.” Caroline practically sings. “Want to come to dinner? Seriously, we’ve got way too much food, and you’d be saving me from having to talk to my husband about his fantasy league picks for an hour. Please say yes.”
I glance at Beck. His hand is loose on the steering wheel, but his eyes flick to mine for just a second—open, questioning. It’s clear he’s leaving it entirely up to me.
And honestly? After everything today, the idea of a warm backyard and burgers with people who clearly love him sounds…nice.
“I’d love to,” I say into the speaker.
Caroline cheers like she’s just won a game. “Perfect! Can’t wait. See you soon!”
The call clicks off, and Beck’s grin spreads slowly, warm and unguarded in a way that hits me square in the chest.
He reaches across the console, finds my hand, and laces his fingers through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Guess we’re going to dinner,” he says, that grin still tugging at his mouth.
I squeeze his hand back, a smile of my own blooming despite the heaviness of earlier. “Guess we are.”
The road unwinds ahead of us, sunlight spilling across the dashboard, and for the first time that day, the weight in his voice sounding just a little bit lighter.
The moment we turn into a cute neighborhood, I can smell it—charcoal smoke and something savory drifting through the open truck windows. Laughter and high-pitched squeals carry faintly from the backyard as Beck parks in the driveway, headlights catching on the string lights strung across the porch.
He cuts the engine and leans back in his seat for a second, drumming his fingers once on the steering wheel. “Fair warning,” he says, mouth quirking. “They’re…a lot.”
I smile. “I can handle a lot.”
We round the corner to the backyard, and chaos greets us in the best way.
Joey is mid-battle with a foam sword, Alyssa shrieks with laughter as she runs circles around a lawn chair, and his dad stands closer to the grill.
Caroline looks up from the patio table, a dish towel tossed over her shoulder, her whole face brightening with a smile when she sees us.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Beck’s dad calls. “I was about to start feeding your burger to the dog.”
“You don’t even have a dog,” Beck fires back.
“Exactly,” he says with a grin.
Caroline swats at her husband with the dish towel as she comes forward, warmth radiating off her in waves.
“Come here, you,” she says, pulling Beck into a quick hug before turning to me.
“And you must be Sophie.” She doesn’t hesitate, just opens her arms, and I step into the hug before I can overthink it.
She smells like fabric softener and grilled onions. “We’re so glad you’re here.”
Joey abandons his sword and latches onto Beck’s leg. “Did you bring ice cream?”
Beck groans. “Hi to you too, Joey.”
Alyssa trails behind, clutching the hem of Beck’s hoodie. He scoops her up without missing a beat, settling her on his hip like he’s done it a thousand times. She hides her face in his shoulder for a second before peeking shyly at me.
“This is Sophie,” Beck says, glancing between all of them. “Sophie, this is Alyssa, that’s my dad, Mark, his wife, Caroline, and Joey.”
“Nice to meet you, Sophie,” Mark says, before turning back to the grill and flipping a burger. “So, are you guys friends or?”
Beck sighs, already rubbing a hand over his face like he’s been ambushed. “Here we go.”
Caroline laughs, herding us toward the table. “Take a seat, both of you. Food’s almost ready. Joey, go wash your hands. Alyssa, shoes on the deck, honey.”
They scatter, Joey sprinting inside, and Alyssa hopping toward the steps, and suddenly it’s just the delicious smell of the burgers and the easy rhythm of a family that knows each other’s beats by heart.
Beck sinks into the chair beside me, still holding the water bottle he grabbed from the cooler, and for the first time since this morning, his shoulders aren’t tense and he looks relaxed. Content.
I glance around the yard—Mark humming along with the music, Caroline setting out plates like it’s second nature, making sure Beck knows which buns are safe for him to have, little sneakers abandoned on the porch—and a quiet truth settles in my chest. I’ve only been here for a few minutes, but I already know.
This is what a real, loving family should look like.