Chapter 39
The Sound of Home
Maliyah
This apartment was driving me insane. The walls seemed to inch closer every day, and time had become this strange blur where Tuesday felt exactly like Friday, which felt exactly like Sunday.
When I caught myself actually looking forward to having the physical therapist bend my limbs into painful positions just for the change of scenery, I knew I'd hit rock bottom.
I was on the couch, legs curled under me, staring at my phone. The silence was suffocating. I missed my kids—their shouting, their footsteps, the clatter of dropped toys, their calls of "Mama!" Even their bickering over the remote would've been welcome now.
Reed was in Lucas’s room working on something for John—I think the quiet had even gotten to him, but he didn't seem to want to leave me alone, so he found ways to do work here instead of completely losing his mind while taking leave.
He was moving in by stealth. More clothes appeared in the closet each week.
His toiletries had migrated from a travel bag to permanent spots on the counter—"just easier," he claimed.
Sure. He was planting his flag. It's like he'd quietly moved in—and somehow, despite everything, I found myself getting used to the weight of his presence.
Part of me resented it though. Who gave him permission to just take over my space? I never actually said yes—I was just too exhausted and broken to push back.
Now that the fog was lifting and my strength returning, I couldn't ignore it anymore.
What I craved more than anything, though, was my children—the beautiful hurricane of them. Their sticky hands and endless questions. The weight of them against me. I wanted to be Mama again, not this fragile thing everyone tiptoed around.
And I needed Reed to leave—at least for a few hours. I needed some damn privacy to think.
I stood up from the couch, walked to Lucas’s room, and knocked on the doorframe. Reed looked up from his laptop, concern immediately crossing his face.
"Everything okay? You need something?"
I held up my phone.
I need you to leave for a few hours.
His expression shifted. "Leave? Like go to my apartment?"
Or anywhere. I just need you gone for a while.
"Is everything okay? Do you need something I can—"
I'm fine. I just need space. Real space. Not you in the next room.
He was quiet for a moment, and I could see him processing. Even see the hurt across his features. "Oh. Okay. Yeah. I can do that. How long?"
A few hours. I'll text you when you can come back.
"Alright." He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack—my coat rack. "I'll just... I'll go. Text me if you need anything before then."
I nodded, relieved he wasn't pushing.
After he left, I sat there staring at the closed door. Then I pulled out my phone and texted Felicity.
Me: Reed's gone for a few hours. Can you bring the kids over? I need to see them in person. The daily videos and phone calls are great, but not enough. I’m ready and if I don't see them I think I'll lose my mind.
Felicity: Finally! Yes! We'll be there in 30.
I looked around the apartment. Reed's coffee mug was sitting by the sink, he had a book on the end table, and even his phone charger was plugged into the living room wall.
For fuck's sake. There was evidence everywhere that he'd made himself at home. Huffing out a breath, I got moving.
I rushed around the apartment, scooping up Reed's belongings—his watch from the bathroom counter, a sweatshirt draped over the couch arm, his laptop charger.
I shoved everything into Lucas's closet, then gathered what remained in his room and hid that too.
My heart raced as I scanned the living room one more time.
Something still felt off, like I'd overlooked some obvious trace of him that would give everything away the moment my children walked through the door.
I grabbed a few coloring books and some things for the kids to play with, feeling the excitement building inside my chest at the thought of finally holding my babies. When I stepped into the kitchen to grab something to drink, I heard the front door open.
Dropping my cup down on the counter, I turned and ran from the kitchen heading to the door, my heart jumping as I rushed to meet the kids.
Felicity came in first. "You look better," she said, walking in.
I kissed her on the cheek and then all but shoved her to the side.
"Mama!" Zoe launched herself at me before anyone could stop her.
I caught her, scooping her up despite the dull ache in my ribs. She was warm and solid and real in my arms. I buried my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. I was as close to sobbing as a reasonable person could get without blubbering and snotting all over my kid's hair.
God, I'd missed this. Missed them. Missed everything about them.
The tears came hard, streaming down my face as I held her.
It had been weeks. Weeks since I'd held my baby girl. Every day I doubted myself in keeping them away, not letting them see how bad I really was. I knew it was worth it to protect their nightmares, but my heart almost didn’t survive the separation.
"Mama, you're squishing me," Zoe said, but she didn't try to pull away.
I loosened my grip just enough, pressing kisses to the top of her head, her cheek, anywhere I could reach.
Lucas hung back near the door with Caden, more cautious. Watching me with those serious eyes that were too old for seven. But I could see the emotion there too—the way his chin trembled slightly, the way his hands clenched at his sides.
I set Zoe down carefully, my vision blurry with tears, and held out both arms to Lucas.
His first step was slow. Tentative. then all at once—he rushed into me, wrapping his arms around my waist so tight it hurt my ribs and jarred my shoulder. I was sure physical therapy would be great this week—but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything except holding my babies.
Both of them. My babies.
I sank down to the floor right there in the entryway, pulling them both onto my lap even though they were too big for that now. They were too heavy for me, but I didn't fucking care. I wrapped my arms around them and let myself cry—really cry—for the first time since coming home.
"Don't cry, Mama," Zoe said, patting my face with her small hands. "You're okay now. We’re home."
But that just made me cry harder. Because we were home. They were here in my arms. And just a few weeks ago I'd been so scared I'd never see them again.
Lucas buried his face against my shoulder, his small body shaking. He was crying too, trying to hide it, trying to be strong.
"It's okay, buddy," I managed to get out, my voice muffled and broken around the wires. "It's okay to cry."
"I thought—" His voice cracked. "I thought you weren't coming back."
My heart shattered. I held him tighter, rocked them both like I used to when they were babies.
Felicity was crying too—I could hear her sniffling from where she stood by the door. Caden's hand was on her shoulder, his eyes bright.
We stayed like that for a long time. Me on the floor with my kids in my arms, all of us crying, all of us holding on like we'd never let go.
Finally, I pulled back enough to look at them. Really look at them.
"You look different," Lucas said quietly, his voice muffled against my shoulder. "Better than on the video calls."
I pulled back enough to look at them, then reached for my phone, texting Felicity who read it aloud. While Lucas could read simple sentences, Zoe wasn’t there quite yet.
I'm getting better every day. The doctors say I'm doing really well.
"Can you talk yet?" Zoe asked, tilting her head up at me.
I shook my head, pointed to my jaw.
Not yet. It’s too hard and hurts to try too much. Maybe a few more weeks. But I can hear you. Tell me everything.
And they did. Zoe's words tumbled out in a rush, her hands gesturing wildly as she described Miss Alice's classroom and the butterfly that had landed right on her finger before flying away.
"And Aunt Felicity let us have ice cream for breakfast one time but she said not to tell you," she confessed, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
Lucas sat closer to my uninjured side, his voice softer as he filled me in on baseball practice and the fantasy books with dragons that he'd started reading.
"I missed our apartment," he admitted, eyes downcast. "And you.
" Then he mentioned Madison from his class, how fun she was and that she shared her cookies with him.
My eyes found Felicity's across the room, and I couldn't help the knowing smile that spread across my face.
I kept touching them—smoothing Zoe's hair, adjusting Lucas's collar, just making sure they were real. That this wasn't another dream I'd wake up from.
When I was finally able to pull myself away from them, we moved into the living room where Caden and Felicity settled into the chairs, letting the kids have the couch with me. We'd been sitting there for maybe ten minutes when Zoe suddenly scrambled off the couch and started looking around.
"Mama, where's all your stuff?" She pointed toward the entryway. "There's boy shoes by the door."
My stomach dropped. Dammit.
I'd missed the shoes. Reed's running sneakers, tucked against the wall by the door.
Lucas's head turned, following her pointing finger. His eyes landed on the shoes, then slowly swept the room. I watched his expression change as he took inventory—the jacket I'd missed on the back of a chair, a pair of reading glasses on the sideboard. Come on!
"Is someone living here?" Lucas asked, his voice careful. Controlled.
Felicity jumped in smoothly. "Your mama has a friend helping her while she recovers. That's all."
"What friend?" Lucas pressed, his eyes coming back to mine. Too knowing. Too smart.
Just someone making sure I'm okay.
"Is it Detective Reed?" Lucas asked directly. Not a guess. A question he already knew the answer to. "The shoes look like his shoes."
Damn. My smart, observant boy.
I looked at Felicity, then at Caden. Thought about lying. Thought about making something up.
But Lucas deserved the truth. Even if it was complicated.
Yes. Reed has been helping me. But that's all. He's just helping.
"So he's here?" Zoe's face lit up like Christmas morning. "Can we see him? I made him a picture!"
No. He's not here right now.
"But he was here." Lucas wasn't asking. He was stating. Processing. "He's been staying here."
Lucas—
"It's okay, Mama." But his voice was flat. Careful. "I just wanted to know."
The withdrawal in his expression broke something in me. He was protecting himself. Already assuming the worst because he remembered what it felt like when Reed left.
He's been helping me recover. That's all. I needed someone big to help and Reed is big, right?
His head tilted to the side at that—considering.
"Does he sleep here?" Zoe asked, innocent and curious.
In Lucas's room. Just until I'm better.
"And then he'll leave again," Lucas said quietly. Not a question. A certainty. "Like before."
The resignation in his voice. The acceptance.
My baby boy had already written Reed off. Had already protected his heart because I hadn't protected it the first time.
Lucas, I don't know what's going to happen. But right now, what matters is that I'm getting better and you're here with me.
Felicity caught my eye, concern written all over her face. I shook my head slightly. Not now.
"Who wants to tell Mama about the pizzas we made last night and how Aunt Felicity made one with chocolate and peanut butter!?" Caden jumped in, changing the subject.
Lucas hesitated, but took the bait, and thank God, the conversation moved on.
But I caught Lucas glancing at those shoes again. At the jacket. Taking inventory of Reed's presence in our space.
My boy was too smart. And too hurt.
We spent the next hour coloring, playing games, just being together. Zoe sat plastered against my side, like if she let go I might disappear again. Lucas stayed close but more reserved, watching me like he was still making sure I was real.
Every few minutes, Zoe would pat my face gently, careful of the healing injuries. "Does it hurt, Mama?"
Not too much anymore, baby.
"Good. I don't like when you hurt."
My throat tightened. I pulled her closer, kissed the top of her head.
Eventually, Zoe started getting restless and Lucas was beginning to fade. It had been good but exhausting for all of us.
"We should probably head out," Felicity said gently. "Let your mama rest."
"Can we come back tomorrow?" Zoe asked, her bottom lip already trembling.
Definitely. I’m starting to feel so much better. Maybe by the weekend
"Okay! Yeah!" She threw her arms around my neck. "I love you, Mama."
I love you more than all the stars.
"More than all the stars!" she echoed.
Lucas hugged me too, but more carefully. "Bye, Mama."
Bye, baby. I'll see you soon. I promise.
As they were putting on their coats, Lucas turned back. "Mama? Can you tell Detective Reed hi from me? If you see him?"
The question hit me like a punch to the chest.
Of course, sweetheart.
He nodded, then followed Felicity and Caden out the door. Just as I thought he was gone, his small face reappeared in the doorway. "And tell him thank you? For being big so he could help you." Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him before I could respond.
After they left, I sat in the too-quiet apartment alone. Surrounded again by quiet.
I thought about my babies and how I'd ended up here—separated from them, surviving Bryce.
The system had failed us repeatedly, just as it fails countless others daily.
I'd always believed my place was in shelters, not advocacy. But tonight, something shifted. Why couldn’t it be both?
Maybe it was time to not just support survivors daily, but to also fight for real change: better funding, taking protective orders seriously, actual accountability. Something had to give.
I knew I should probably text Reed. Tell him it’s okay to come back.
But I didn't. Something was unfolding in my mind—a plan, a purpose—and I needed the quiet to think it through.