It was 3:17 AM when Julian first spoke to me again.

I was awake, lying on my back, heart pounding. The shadows in my room seemed to stretch too far, and I could feel him there, in the corner. When I turned my head, he was standing by the window, bathed in silver moonlight. His hair looked like it always had—soft and messy—but his wings... they were wrong. Small, broken-looking, like they'd never grown properly. They shimmered faintly but didn’t quite belong.

His smile made my chest tighten.

“Julian?” My voice came out barely louder than a whisper.

He nodded once, his expression soft. “I missed you.”

I didn’t scream. I didn’t ask how. I didn’t ask why. I just got up from the bed, slowly, afraid that if I moved too quickly, he’d vanish. My hand reached for him, shaking, and when I touched his skin, it was cold—but real. It was him.

“Why didn’t you—" The words stuck in my throat.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

He stayed.

And I believed every second of it.