Benjamin's POV
All my kids still have their own rooms in this house, even if they've all moved out and built their own lives. I kept those rooms just the way they were, spotless and waiting, so they'd always know: no matter how cruel the world gets, they still have a home to come back to.
When I stepped out of my office, the living room was empty. The quiet felt too still. I asked Alfie where everyone was, and he said, "Upstairs."
I went up and stopped at Vicky's door. I knocked once. Ella opened it, her eyes darting between me and the room. Inside, Vicky was lying on her bed, pressing a cold compress to her cheek. Oliver and Liam sat on either side of her, like sentinels.
"I don't want to talk to you!" Vicky snapped before I could say anything. Her tone was sharp and like a spoiled brat, made me want to smile, if only because it reminded me of how she used to pout when she was trying to stifle a cry when she was little. But I bit it back.
