The Touch - Rewrite

I zipped up my backpack and gave it a quick check, making sure everything was where I wanted it before I slung it over my shoulder. Kyan was already moving around the room behind me, pulling on his shoes like he had been ready to go for a while. He kept glancing over at me like he was holding back a comment, which only made me more aware of what I was doing. I grabbed my book from the desk and slid it carefully into the front pocket, trying not to make it obvious.

That did it.

I heard him giggle.

I looked over at him. “What?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Do you take your book everywhere?”

“Yeah,” I said, a little more defensive than I meant to sound as I zipped the bag shut. “Why?”

“It’s just funny,” he replied with a shrug as he stood up. “Dad loves to talk about his stories. Like, all the time.”

I adjusted the strap on my shoulder as we moved toward the door. “Yeah, I know.”

“He’s written The Touch and that vampire one,” Kyan continued as we stepped into the hallway. “And he’s always saying he has a ton of ideas for more. If you ever see him working on his laptop and you want his attention, just ask him what he’s doing.”

I glanced over at him. “That works?”

Kyan grinned. “Every time. You start asking questions, and he just goes off. You’ll have him hooked in like five seconds.” He bumped his shoulder lightly against mine as we started down the stairs. “Especially if you bat those baby blues of yours at him.”

“Are you trying to teach your brother how to work over your parents, Kyan?”

We both jumped slightly at the voice behind us. Uncle Geoff came down the stairs a step behind us, already dressed and far more awake than either of us. Kyan froze for half a second before his face turned bright red.

“I wasn’t—I mean—I wasn’t trying to—”

Geoff laughed and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Relax, kid. I’m impressed. That’s a solid strategy.” He glanced over at me with a grin. “I expect him to have both of them wrapped around his finger by the time I get back from my trip.”

“Aren’t you coming to the party?” I asked as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

He nodded. “I am. Gavin and Toby are riding with me. I just won’t be staying the whole time.”

“Why not?” Kyan asked.

“Business meeting in California,” Geoff explained with a wry chuckle. “One of those meetings where everyone talks for hours and nothing gets done. You’re more than welcome to take my place if you want.”

“That’s a hard no,” Kyan said immediately, earning another laugh from Geoff.

“I’ll remember that next time,” Geoff replied, clapping him lightly on the shoulder.

We moved into the kitchen where Greg was already waiting near the door with his keys in hand. He looked up when we entered and nodded toward us. “You guys about ready to go?” he asked, stepping forward and taking my backpack before I could answer. “I’ll toss this in the trunk for you, buddy.”

“Thanks, Greg,” I said.

“You’re taking Toby and Gavin, right?” Greg asked as he headed for the door, glancing back toward Geoff.

“Yep,” Geoff replied easily. “Just don’t forget about them later.”

“As long as Nat remembers, I’ll remember,” Greg shot back with a grin.

Geoff just shook his head, laughing under his breath as he followed him outside. Kyan and I trailed behind them, stepping out into the morning air as the driveway came into view. Geoff turned back toward the house and raised his voice.

“Come on, Toby! Let’s go, Gavin!”

The front door swung open almost immediately, and Gavin came out with Toby in his arms, both of them already halfway laughing about something. Natalie followed behind them, locking the door as she stepped out onto the porch.

Gavin slowed as they reached the driveway, setting Toby down before turning back toward Natalie. He stepped in and wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug, and Toby followed right after, hugging her tightly around the waist before pulling back with a giggle.

Then Toby ran straight over to Greg and threw his arms around him. “See you soon, daddy,” he said brightly.

Greg froze for just a second before his expression broke into a wide smile as he hugged him back. “See you soon, buddy.”

Gavin stepped over next, giving Greg a quick hug as well before heading toward Geoff’s car with Toby close behind him.

I watched them for a moment before glancing up at Greg. He still had that smile on his face, like he hadn’t quite come down from hearing it yet.

Natalie noticed it too, her expression softening slightly before she turned toward us. “Alright,” she said, clapping her hands lightly together. “Let’s get going before we’re the last ones there.”

Greg nodded and headed toward the driver’s side of the SUV while Natalie moved to the passenger seat. Kyan nudged me lightly, motioning toward the back as he followed after them.

I took one last glance at the house before climbing into the car, the door shutting with a soft thud behind me as everything shifted forward into whatever was waiting for us next.

Greg pulled away from the house, the tires crunching lightly over the driveway before the road smoothed out beneath us. For a few seconds, nobody said anything, like we were all settling into it at the same time.

Then Greg glanced over at Natalie with a grin. “Did you hear him call me daddy?”

Natalie laughed softly, turning just enough in her seat to look at him. “He’s already got you wrapped around his little finger.”

Greg shook his head, still smiling as he merged onto the main road. “Just imagine how he’s going to react when we tell him we want to adopt him.”

I leaned back against the seat, listening without saying anything. Beside me, Kyan shifted and stretched his legs out a little, already getting comfortable like this was just another normal drive for him.

It didn’t take long before Geoff’s car fell in behind us, staying close as we made our way through the morning traffic. The quiet didn’t last long.

Kyan filled it.

He leaned forward between the seats, talking easily with Natalie like they had known each other for years. One topic bled into the next without warning—favorite foods, random stories, things he liked, things he didn’t. I didn’t try to jump in. I just listened, picking up the small details as he said them without thinking.

Lasagna. Same as me.

Blue. Same as me.

Not everything was different.

A few minutes later, the music cut off and the soft chime of the car’s system echoed through the speakers.

“I bet you five bucks it’s Mom, Zyan,” Kyan said with a grin, already starting to laugh.

I couldn’t help it—I laughed too as Greg tapped the button on the steering wheel.

“Hello?” Greg called out.

“Hey, Greg. It’s Lauren.”

Kyan immediately lost it beside me, laughing harder as I shook my head at him.

“Hey, Lauren,” Greg replied easily. “We just left the house about ten minutes ago.”

“That’s not why I’m calling,” my mom said, her voice carrying through the speakers with a hint of amusement. “And you can tell Kyan to stop laughing, because he’s wrong.”

That only made it worse.

Kyan leaned back against the seat, still laughing while Natalie reached behind her and swatted his knee lightly.

“What’s up, Lauren?” she asked.

“I was hoping you could stop at a store and grab a few cases of bottled water for me,” my mom said. “Apparently, my caterer doesn’t believe in being prepared like she’s paid to be.”

Greg chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“It’s not a problem,” Natalie replied. “We’ll grab it as soon as we find a place. Do you need anything else?”

“As long as you’ve got the boys, everything else is good,” my mom said warmly.

“Well, we’ve obviously got the giggle box named Kyan,” Greg said, glancing in the mirror, “but I don’t know who this other kid is. He says he belongs to you.”

“Hey,” I said, the word coming out more like a whine than I meant it to.

That just made everyone laugh again.

Kyan reached over and squeezed my hand briefly, still grinning.

“There’s a store up ahead,” Natalie said, pointing out the window. “Are you sure that’s all you need, Lauren?”

“Yes, dear,” my mom replied. “David can pay you back when you get here.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Natalie said. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Everyone’s starting to show up,” my mom added. “So don’t take too long.”

“We won’t,” Greg said.

There was a small pause, and before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.

“I love you, Mom.”

The second I said it, I felt my face heat up.

Kyan squeezed my hand again.

“I love you too, Zyan,” she replied without hesitation.

The call ended, and the music came back on softly, filling the space again.

Natalie turned slightly in her seat and reached back, resting her hand briefly against my knee. “You’ve handled everything really well,” she said gently. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, glancing out the window for a second before looking back down.

After we stopped at the store and loaded the water into the back, the rest of the drive felt shorter than it should have. Kyan kept talking, shifting topics as easily as before while he told me about his friends, his school, the people he spent his time with.

“Casey’s a chatterbox,” he said, leaning back but still turned toward me. “She’s my best friend. I was texting her yesterday when we found you. Her boyfriend’s kind of annoying, but his cousin’s cool. Heath’s quiet, though. You’d probably get along with him.”

I nodded, listening, not really expecting to meet any of them anytime soon.

I should have known better.

A few minutes later, Greg slowed the car as we turned onto a long stretch of road lined with trees, and something in my chest tightened without warning.

We were getting close.

The trees started to close in around the road the farther we went, tall evergreens lining both sides like they were leading somewhere important. The sunlight flickered through them in uneven patterns, flashing across the windows and making it harder to focus on anything for too long.

I sat up a little without meaning to.

Kyan noticed.

“Almost there,” he said, like he already knew what I was thinking.

I nodded, even though my chest had started to tighten again.

A few seconds later, the road curved slightly, and Greg slowed the car as a tall metal gate came into view ahead of us. A small brick building sat just off to the side, with a window facing the driveway and a door beside it. Before we even came to a full stop, a man stepped out, dressed neatly in tan khakis and a black polo shirt, a clipboard tucked under his arm.

Greg rolled the window down as the man approached.

“Good morning,” he said politely, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Can I get your names, please?”

“Greg and Natalie Harris,” Greg replied.

Before anything else could be said, Kyan leaned forward between the seats, grinning. “Hey, Steve!”

The man blinked, then smiled in recognition. “Hey, Kyan. Didn’t know you weren’t home.”

Kyan shrugged. “It happens.”

The man glanced down at his clipboard, then back up toward the car. His eyes moved past Kyan for just a second—then snapped back again.

He did a double take.

I couldn’t help it—I smiled a little.

“I got a clone,” Kyan said, already laughing. “You can open the gate now.”

The guard let out a short, confused chuckle as he motioned back toward the building. “Right. Yeah. Sorry about that.” He tapped something inside before stepping away. “Mr. Montgomery said to have you park near the garage. Enjoy the party.”

“Thanks, Steve!” Kyan called as Greg eased the car forward.

The gate began to slide open slowly, and as soon as we passed through, everything changed.

The driveway stretched out ahead of us, long and wide, with trees lining both sides so thick it almost felt like we were driving through a tunnel. The sound of the road shifted under the tires again, softer this time, and I turned slightly to look out the window as we moved deeper in.

I caught a glimpse of Geoff’s car pulling up to the gate behind us before the trees blocked everything out again.

“Wait for it,” Kyan said quietly.

I frowned slightly. “For what?”

He didn’t answer.

The trees started to thin out a minute later, the light opening up ahead of us—and then I saw it.

The house.

It didn’t even feel right calling it that.

It was massive. Three stories tall, stretching wide with the same tan brick as the guard shack, windows lining the front in perfect symmetry. A circular driveway wrapped around a large gazebo that sat out front, surrounded by trimmed bushes and small trees that looked like they had been placed there on purpose.

Cars lined one side of the driveway.

A lot of them.

Greg slowed slightly as he steered around the curve, moving toward the left while the right side stayed packed. The farther we pulled in, the more everything opened up—more space, more detail, more of it than I could take in all at once.

“Holy—” Gavin’s voice carried faintly from behind us through the open window of Geoff’s car as it followed.

Kyan laughed beside me.

I didn’t.

I just stared.

Greg guided the car toward the side of the house where one of the garage doors stood open, pulling to a stop just outside of it. The moment the engine cut, the sound hit me.

Music.

Loud.

Not just background noise—real music, coming from somewhere behind the house, mixed with voices and movement and something that felt a lot bigger than what I had been expecting.

I flinched slightly before I could stop myself.

Natalie noticed immediately. She turned in her seat and reached back, resting her hand gently against my knee.

“Hey,” she said softly. “You okay?”

“I thought you said this was a small party,” I muttered.

She smiled, the same calm, steady smile she always used when I started getting in my head. “I’m sure your parents’ idea of small might be a little different than ours,” she said lightly. “It’s probably just a few friends.”

I let out a small breath and nodded, even though I wasn’t completely convinced.

“Come on, buddy,” she added, opening her door. “Your mom’s probably been waiting all morning.”

That helped.

A little.

I pushed the door open and stepped out, the noise getting just a little louder now that I wasn’t inside the car. The air felt different here—cleaner somehow, but heavier too.

Greg was already at the back, opening the trunk.

“I’ll grab your bag,” I started.

Kyan’s voice cut in from behind me. “Already got it.”

I turned just in time to see him disappear through the garage door with it.

“Oh,” I said, blinking. “Where’s it going?”

Greg smirked as he pulled a case of water from the trunk. “Pretty sure he said something about your room.”

I paused.

“My room?”

Greg just shrugged like it was obvious. “Guess you’ll find out.”

He handed me a small grocery bag next. “Here, can you carry this?”

I nodded, glancing inside. “What’s this?”

“Your mom asked us to bring a few snacks you like,” he said as he lifted another case of water. “She was worried she wouldn’t have anything for you.”

I looked down at the bag again—fruit snacks, cheese puffs—and felt something small but steady settle in my chest.

“Oh,” I said quietly.

I stepped a little closer and wrapped my arms around his side for a second. “Thanks.”

He shifted slightly, surprised, before patting my shoulder. “Anytime, bud.”

“Wow, Zyan,” Gavin said as he walked up beside me with Toby and Geoff. “This place is huge.”

“Yeah,” I said, still looking at everything. “It is.”

Natalie stepped up beside us, glancing toward the garage. “Here comes your dad and brother.”

I followed her gaze.

My dad stepped out first, already smiling.

“Hey, guys,” he called as he walked toward us. “Make yourselves at home. The buffet’s already set up if you’re hungry.”

“Starving!” Toby announced immediately.

“You’re always starving,” Gavin and I said at the same time, and that was enough to break the tension just a little as we both started laughing.

Greg, Geoff, and my dad each grabbed the cases of water, and I fell in behind them, holding onto the bag as we followed my dad toward the door inside the garage.

“We’ll drop these off in the kitchen,” my dad was saying as he pushed the door open.

I stepped inside after them—

—and stopped.

The room was smaller than I expected.

A narrow laundry space, tucked just inside the door, with a washer and dryer lining one wall and cabinets built into the other. It should have felt ordinary, but it didn’t. Not with everything waiting on the other side of the door in front of me.

The noise from outside was muffled now, dulled by the walls, but it was still there—voices, music, movement. Too many things happening all at once, just out of sight.

Everyone else had already gone through.

I hadn’t.

I stood there, staring at the door, the grocery bag still clutched in my hand. My fingers tightened around the plastic without me meaning to, the faint crinkling sound too loud in the quiet space. My heart had started beating faster, each thud hitting harder than the last, and no matter how many times I told myself to just move, my body didn’t listen.

It was too much.

Too many people.

Too many eyes.

Too much of everything I didn’t understand yet.

My hand lifted slightly, hovering halfway toward the doorknob, but it stopped there, trembling. I couldn’t make it go any farther.

The sound of the door behind me opening made me jump.

“Hey,” Natalie’s voice came softly, close enough that I felt her hand settle gently against my shoulder. “Easy.”

I sucked in a breath that didn’t quite feel like enough.

She stepped around beside me, lowering herself slightly so she could see my face. Her expression didn’t change—calm, steady, like nothing about this surprised her.

“Talk to me,” she said quietly.

“I…” My voice caught before I could finish. I swallowed hard, trying again. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” she replied immediately, her tone soft but certain. “You don’t have to have it figured out.”

She reached up and brushed her thumb lightly along my cheek, grounding me just enough to keep me from drifting too far into it.

“Just breathe,” she added. “Nice and slow.”

I nodded, even though it felt shaky, and tried to follow it. In. Out. Again. It didn’t fix everything, but it gave me something to hold onto.

Before I could say anything else, the door in front of me opened.

I flinched.

My dad stepped inside, his eyes moving quickly between me and Natalie before settling completely on me. The concern on his face softened almost immediately, like he already understood what was happening.

“Hey,” he said gently.

“He just needs a second,” Natalie explained, her hand still steady against my shoulder.

My dad nodded once and stepped closer, lowering himself slightly in front of me. He didn’t rush, didn’t push—just held his arms out, giving me the choice.

“I’ve got you,” he said quietly.

That was all it took.

I stepped forward without thinking and buried my face against his shoulder, gripping the front of his shirt like I needed something solid to hold onto. His arms came around me instantly, firm but careful, one hand moving up to rest against the back of my head.

“You’re okay,” he murmured.

“Don’t let go,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

I felt him huff out a soft breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

Natalie’s hand slid gently down my arm before she stepped back just enough to give us space, but she didn’t leave. I could still feel her there, steady and close.

My breathing started to slow.

Not completely.

But enough.

“Come on, buddy,” my dad said after a moment, shifting slightly as he stood with me still in his arms. “Your mom’s been waiting all morning.”

I nodded against his shoulder, not trusting my voice yet.

He didn’t put me down.

Instead, he adjusted his hold just enough to keep me comfortable and turned toward the door again. Natalie reached past us to open it, and the noise spilled back in—louder now, sharper—but it didn’t hit the same way as before.

Not while I was holding onto him.

I tightened my grip slightly as he carried me through the doorway, leaving the small, quiet room behind as we stepped into everything waiting on the other side.

The noise hit harder once we stepped fully inside.

Voices overlapped from every direction, dishes clinked somewhere off to the side, and movement filled the space in a way that made it feel smaller than it actually was. I tightened my grip on my dad’s shirt without thinking, pressing my face a little closer into his shoulder as he carried me into the kitchen.

Then it shifted.

Not completely—but enough.

Conversations faltered, voices dropped, and I could feel it without even looking up.

People were watching.

My dad let out a quiet breath that almost sounded amused, like he was used to it, and adjusted his hold on me slightly. “Give us a second,” he said easily, his voice carrying just enough to settle the room without raising it.

That was all it took.

The space around us opened up just enough that it didn’t feel like everything was closing in anymore. I finally turned my head enough to look.

The kitchen was massive. Counters stretched along the walls, covered in trays of food, drinks, things I couldn’t keep track of. People stood in small clusters, watching with curiosity, surprise—something heavier I didn’t try to name.

Then I saw her.

She had been leaning against the counter, talking to a woman I didn’t recognize, but the second her eyes found me, everything else disappeared. She pushed away from the counter without another word and came straight toward us.

“Zyan,” she said softly.

I didn’t think.

I lifted my head and reached for her, and my dad shifted without hesitation, making it easier as she stepped in close and wrapped her arms around me. I leaned into her just as tightly, holding on like I had done with him moments before.

“I’ve got you,” she murmured, her voice softer now, steadier.

I pressed into her shoulder, breathing in the light, familiar scent of her perfume.

“You smell like strawberries,” she said after a moment, her voice catching just a little.

“You smell like flowers,” I mumbled.

She let out a quiet breath that turned into the softest laugh. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” she admitted, her hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head. “I kept thinking I was going to wake up and this wouldn’t be real.”

“I thought that too,” I whispered.

Her arms tightened around me for just a second before she pulled back enough to look at my face, her hands staying on my shoulders like she needed to keep that connection.

“You’re here,” she said, more to herself than anything else.

I nodded, even though my throat felt tight.

Behind her, the kitchen had started to move again. Not as loud as before, not as careless—but it was there, building back up around us. I could feel it at the edges, like everything was waiting for something.

My dad stepped in a little closer behind me, his hand settling more firmly against my back as he looked over at her. “We don’t have to rush this,” he said quietly.

My mom shook her head slightly, her attention never leaving me. “We’re not rushing him,” she replied, her voice softer now as her fingers brushed lightly along my arm. She paused briefly, choosing her words more carefully. “But everyone out there… they’ve been part of this for years. They deserve to know.”

My chest tightened again.

She saw it immediately.

“Hey,” she said gently, stepping closer. “We’re not putting you on display, okay? We’re just letting them see you. Letting them know you’re home.”

Home.

That word settled somewhere deeper than everything else.

My dad’s hand pressed a little more firmly against my back. “You won’t have to say anything,” he added. “This isn’t on you. Your mom and I will handle it.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, my fingers tightening slightly where they still held onto him.

“I don’t want to mess it up,” I admitted quietly.

“You won’t,” my mom said without hesitation. “There’s nothing you can do that would mess this up.”

My dad huffed a quiet breath behind me. “You showing up is already more than enough.”

That eased something, just a little.

My mom reached down and took my hand, her grip warm and steady as she glanced toward the back of the house where the music filtered in. When she looked back at me, her expression had shifted—still soft, but more certain now.

“We’re going to go out there together,” she said gently. “Your dad and I will tell them who you are. That’s it. You just stay with us.”

My dad nodded. “Right where you belong.”

I nodded again, slower this time, holding onto both of them a little tighter.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all we need,” she said softly.

My dad adjusted his hold, keeping one arm securely around me as she stayed close at my side. Together, they turned toward the back of the house, and with every step, the sound of the party grew louder again.

I tightened my grip on them as we moved forward, trying to hold onto the small pocket of calm they had given me before we stepped out into everything waiting beyond the door.

The music grew louder with every step, the bass pulsing through the walls while voices layered over it in uneven waves of laughter and conversation. It wasn’t overwhelming yet, but it was close, and I felt my grip tighten slightly as my dad guided us toward the back door. My mom stayed close at my side, her hand steady in mine, grounding me with every step we took.

The door opened, and the sound hit all at once.

The backyard stretched out farther than I expected, a wide patio lined with long tables covered in food and drinks before opening into a much larger space filled with people. They were scattered in clusters at first, talking and moving without much thought—until they noticed us. The shift didn’t happen all at once. A few heads turned, then a few more, conversations slowing and breaking apart as attention spread outward like a ripple across water. The music continued, but it no longer felt like part of the moment. It felt distant, secondary, like everything was beginning to revolve around something else.

My dad didn’t stop walking. His hand stayed firm against my back as he guided us forward, my mom keeping pace beside us while people moved out of the way without being asked. Their voices dropped lower and lower as we passed, turning into quiet murmurs that followed behind us. I didn’t look at them. I couldn’t. I kept my focus small—on my dad’s shoulder, on the steady rhythm of his breathing, on the warmth of his hand. My mom’s fingers tightened around mine every few steps, a quiet reminder that she was still there.

When we reached the stage, I felt the shift beneath my dad’s feet before I registered anything else. The hollow sound of wood carried faintly as he stepped up, and the band’s music started to fade piece by piece as the lead singer noticed the change in the crowd. One by one, the instruments dropped away until only a few lingering notes remained, and then those were gone too. The singer stepped forward, scanning the yard before his attention settled on us at the side of the stage. Something in his expression shifted, understanding settling in quickly.

He leaned into the microphone, his voice cutting cleanly through the quiet that had formed. “Hey,” he said, smooth but curious, drawing the last bits of attention toward him. “Looks like we’ve got something important going on.”

The remaining conversations died out completely.

He glanced back toward my parents, gave a small nod, and stepped slightly aside as he gestured toward us. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a moment… please welcome Lauren and David Montgomery.”

Applause started immediately, scattered at first but building as more people turned fully toward the stage. My dad stepped forward with me still in his arms, my mom staying close beside him, and the sound swelled around us without quite reaching me the way it should have. It felt distant, like I was hearing it through something instead of standing in the middle of it.

My dad reached for the microphone, and as the applause began to settle, he spoke. “Thank you. Thank you, everyone.”

It took a few seconds for the yard to quiet again, but when it did, the silence felt complete. Every eye was on us. I felt my dad take a breath, steady and controlled.

“First,” he began, his voice carrying easily across the yard, “I want to thank all of you for being here today to celebrate Kyan’s birthday.”

A few cheers broke through the silence, lighter and uncertain, fading quickly as people realized this wasn’t just a normal speech. He let that settle before continuing.

“Most of you know that Kyan and I were out of town this past week. We got back yesterday, and I needed to stop by Greg Harris’s office before coming home.”

My mom’s hand tightened slightly in mine.

“And while we were there,” he continued, his voice shifting into something heavier and more deliberate, “we walked into something I don’t think any of us were prepared for.”

A ripple moved through the crowd, subtle but present as attention sharpened.

“We came face to face with someone we thought we had lost.”

The words settled fully, sinking into the silence that followed. My chest tightened again, and my fingers curled more tightly into his shirt without thinking. His hand pressed more firmly against my back in response, steady and grounding.

“Many of you know that ten years ago, our family was broken. Our son was taken from us, and for a long time, we didn’t know if we would ever see him again.”

The yard had gone completely still, no movement, no voices—just waiting.

“But yesterday,” he said, his voice tightening just enough to be felt, “that changed.”

My mom stepped closer, her shoulder brushing lightly against me as if she could feel it too.

“Because our son is here.”

The silence cracked into scattered gasps and whispers, disbelief breaking through in fragments as the realization spread.

My dad didn’t rush. He let it build.

Then, slowly and deliberately, he adjusted his hold on me, his hand pressing gently against my back.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, stronger now, steadier, “Lauren and I would like to reintroduce you to our son…”

Everything seemed to hold its breath.

“Zyan Montgomery.”

The reaction hit all at once. Gasps turned into voices, voices into noise, and then into something louder as applause surged across the yard in waves, building as more people joined in. The sound filled everything, pressing in from all sides.

I flinched slightly, my grip tightening again.

My dad felt it immediately. “It’s okay,” he murmured quietly.

“I know,” I whispered, even as my fingers held on tighter.

“Hey,” my mom said softly, drawing my attention.

I turned just enough to look at her, seeing the tears in her eyes even as she smiled at me.

“Just one second,” she said gently.

I hesitated before nodding, and then, slowly, I lifted my head.

The world came into focus all at once. Faces—so many faces—watching, reacting, smiling, crying, staring like they didn’t believe what they were seeing. It was overwhelming, but I didn’t look away this time. My vision blurred with tears, but I stayed there, held between them.

Kyan stood near the front of the stage, looking up at me with a grin so wide it didn’t seem real.

That helped. Just enough.

My dad stepped forward again, his voice warmer now, lighter around the edges. “He’s a little shy,” he said, drawing a soft ripple of laughter from the crowd. “But I think he’s earned that.”

The tension eased slightly.

“He’s been living with Greg and Natalie Harris for the past several months, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank them enough for what they’ve done—for him and for us.”

Applause rose again, some people turning toward Greg and Natalie. I followed their gaze briefly, catching Natalie’s soft smile and Greg’s slightly overwhelmed expression.

My dad’s hand never left my back.

“Our family isn’t broken anymore,” he said, quieter now, but somehow carrying farther than before. “And that’s because of all of you who never let us forget what we were missing.”

He paused, letting the words settle.

“Thank you.”

The applause returned, louder and fuller this time, filling the entire space as he stepped back from the microphone. I didn’t hide from it. I didn’t turn away.

I just held on.