Brandon's POV
Madison's voice froze me where I stood.
For a moment, I couldn't move — my hand still resting on the journal like I'd been caught stealing something sacred. I quickly dropped it on the pillow and turned toward the door. The soft amber glow from my desk lamp cut through the shadows, outlining her small frame.
She stood there — pale and fragile — wearing pink pajamas scattered with fading stars. Her black hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders, and she clutched a pink teddy bear to her chest. Her eyes were rimmed red, the kind that came from hours of crying. She looked smaller than I remembered. Lost. Like the weight of everything had suddenly become too heavy for her to carry.
"Madison," I said softly, pushing the door open a little wider. "What are you doing here? I thought you were asleep."
She shrugged, stepping closer, her arms folding tighter around herself.
