Ava’s POV
The car ride back from that nightmare felt surreal, like the world was moving in slow motion. The tension in the air had lessened slightly after the call to Andrew, letting him know we were safe. But the dread, the ache that had taken root in my chest, lingered.
I glanced over at Tristan, who was slumped in the back seat, his small frame leaning against me, his eyes half-closed. His body seemed fragile, too fragile, and his face was pale and drawn. Every few seconds, his eyelids fluttered as if he were fighting to stay awake, but I wished he wouldn’t. I wished he’d sleep, just so he wouldn’t have to carry the weight of what had happened.
“Hey, baby,” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “How about we stop and get you your favorite burger? Would you
