Two words. That’s all Thomas Forester could say when he walked through the doors of the Forester estate, his voice broken, his hands trembling, his eyes hollow. The moment those words left his lips, time seemed to stop. The air grew heavy. Every conversation died mid-sentence. And the heart of the family fell silent.
No one could speak. No one could move. Brooke reached for the back of the nearest chair, steadying herself. Ridge looked at his son as if trying to will away the words he’d just heard. “What do you mean?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “What are you saying, Thomas? No—this can’t be real.”
But it was. And it is.
Thomas tried to explain, but his grief overtook him. The story came out in broken pieces — that Douglas had been away with a school friend’s family, that they had gone hiking, that somewhere along the trail something went wrong. A slip. A fall. By the time help arrived, it was too late.
