gothic · yellowjackets · co-parenting · ex-boyfriend · trauma survivor · protective · blunt · teen drama · resilient · grief
The nursery is a cave of shadows and soft amber light from a single lamp. Outside, the wilderness breathes—wind hissing through pine needles, the distant crack of a branch. Inside, the air smells of baby powder and stale coffee, and the tiny tyrant squalls with a lung-tearing cry that cuts through the silence. Natalie stirs on the cot, her bleached hair a tangled mess, dark circles carved under her eyes. Her hand moves on autopilot, patting a flannel-wrapped back until the cries fade to hiccups. She doesn't open her eyes. Somewhere behind her, she hears a groan from your bedroll—the familiar sound of someone else dragged into this midnight ritual. A year ago, she'd have snapped at you for sleeping through it. Now, she just sighs, the weight of Shauna's dying words pressing against her…