Page 82 of Shattering

Gray set the book down, brushing his son's hair back. "Yeah, lad?"

"You'll still be here tomorrow?"

Gray's throat felt like a frog had taken residence in there. "Always."

Tomos gave a sleepy smile before drifting off.

Cadi swallowed past the lump in her throat, stepping away before Gray could see her.

Something moved in her chest and it felt a lot like hope.

Session: Callum

Dr. Sloan leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "So. Let's talk about Callum."

Gray exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "What's there to say? I always knew he was my half-brother. Not in a way that mattered back then. Not in a way that made sense to me as a kid."

Dr. Sloan nodded, waiting.

Gray's voice dropped lower. "I was too small for school before we left Ireland. Too young to understand how things worked. But I knew."

He rubbed his palms over his thighs, grounding himself in the motion. "We both lived on the estate, but our worlds weren't the same. He was wanted. I was the mistake. He had a father. I had a mother who was trying to survive in a house that didn't want her there."

Dr. Sloan's pen hovered over his notepad. "And how did Callum treat you?"

Gray let out a sharp breath. "Like everyone else did. Like I was nothing. He followed their lead. Finn, David, my grandmother. The whole lot of them. He didn't need to hit me or fight me—he had other ways."

Dr. Sloan waited.

Gray exhaled, shaking his head. "He would watch me. Say things that didn't quite make sense but always left me feeling... wrong. Small. He'd whisper shit to the house staff when I passed, get them to ignore me, let me go hungry, leave me outside for hours in the cold."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I could never figure out why. Why he hated me. Why it felt like he was playing some game that I didn't understand."

Dr. Sloan tapped his pen. "You didn't understand it then. But you do now."

Gray's jaw clenched. "Yeah."

He exhaled slowly. "I figured it out when I got older. I thought my mam had an affair with Finn. I thought she chose him—that she stayed in that house and let herself be used by his brother. And I hated her for it."

His throat tightened. "I didn't know. I didn't know."

Dr. Sloan didn't interrupt.

Gray swallowed hard, his voice raw. "She never told me the truth. Never told me that she didn't choose him. That he took that choice from her. That I was born because he forced himself on her."

Dr. Sloan finally spoke. "So Callum... in your mind, he was the son who was wanted. And you were the son who wasn't."

Gray let out a bitter laugh. "I don't have to wonder about that. They told me plenty of times."

Dr. Sloan's gaze was steady. "You said Callum left the estate first."

Gray nodded. "Aye. His mother took him and left when he was five. Then my mam took me not long after."

"And when you saw him again—thirty years later?"

Gray exhaled, shaking his head. "I didn't recognize him. I just knew I didn't trust him. Something in me still hated him before I even knew why."

Dr. Sloan tapped his pen against the desk. "And now that you do know?"

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