"I'm just glad you're safe," Sky's mother said, her voice gentle, full of hesitant relief. "But… your father is worried about you. He might've said some harsh things, but I know he regrets them. He didn't sleep a wink last night…"
Sky stood silently in the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear as steam rose from the mug he was holding. Her voice filled the quiet around him, soft and familiar, threading through his nerves like a balm. He hadn't meant to call her—he'd dialed her number almost by accident, a half-conscious decision born out of everything weighing on him. But hearing her voice had brought something inside him unclench.
"He'll be alright," she continued. "And… I hope you have fun with the others when they arrive."
"Yeah," Sky said quietly.
There was a pause. Then her voice lowered, cautious. "How is he?"
