“That’s enough!” Daniel shouted, crossing the room and gripping his son’s shoulders, forcing him onto the bed. He pinned the casted arm down, hands trembling. “You’re going to seriously hurt yourself.”
To Daniel, it looked like panic spiraling into hysteria—a child unable to handle discomfort. He didn’t notice the heat radiating from Caleb’s skin. He didn’t register how his son flinched at the slightest touch, like every nerve was screaming.
He saw chaos.
He couldn’t see pain with nowhere to go.
The Voice That Dismissed Everything
From the doorway, Vivian Morgan watched quietly, arms folded. She didn’t rush forward. She didn’t soften her tone.
“I warned you,” she said calmly. “The doctor said the recovery would be simple. This isn’t physical.”
Caleb turned his head toward her, something breaking in his expression as he realized she wouldn’t help him.
“He’s fixated,” Vivian continued smoothly. “First complaints, now stories about things crawling. He needs psychological help before this gets worse.”
Daniel hesitated—but fatigue won. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair, doubt swallowing instinct.