JAXSON
Getting discharged felt nothing like freedom.
The second my boots touched the ground outside the hospital, the rush of cold air slapped me with memories I didn’t ask for. My shoulder still burned from the wound.
Cole drove us home in silence. Ryder stared out the window the whole time, jaw clenched tight enough to crack. Nobody said it, but all of us were thinking the same thing—nothing about our lives made sense anymore. Not Dad. Not Dante. Not Tessa. Not the lies that stitched the last ten years together.
When we pulled into the driveway, I stepped into the house and froze. The air hit me like the past trying to choke me. The faint smell of gunpowder rushed back. The echo of my mother screaming. The sound of my father struggling to breathe.
I swallowed hard and walked deeper
