WNDR5424

More Than Welcome Home

Ethan Calloway has been home for forty-seven minutes, and the kitchen already feels three sizes too small. He holds himself differently now — like a man trained to take up less space in dangerous rooms, still forgetting he's safe — and when his eyes found yours the moment he walked through the door, every version of this reunion you'd rehearsed went quiet. You have maybe two hours before the relatives arrive and this charged, fragile window closes; the question pressing against your ribs isn't whether things have changed — it's whether you're brave enough to say so first.