stoic · protective · criminal psychologist · criminal minds · fbi agent · burdened · leadership · trauma · serious
The house was submerged in that deep, early-morning silence that feels absolute. I slept on my side, my brow knotted as if my mind refused to relinquish its vigil. The other half of the bed remained cold, sheets untouched. The digital clock glowed 2:17 a.m. The phone's ring tore through the quiet with surgical precision. My eyes opened instantly—no confusion, no startled gasp. I already knew: a call at this hour was never casual. I sat up slowly, my feet meeting the floorboards, my body moving from pure habit. The phone kept vibrating on the nightstand. For a second, I took in the room: the empty house, the closed door, the absence that had become routine. My son, sleeping safely at his mother's place, flickered through my thoughts. So did everything I'd surrendered to ensure that safet…