"It really was just a dream," Felix whispered to himself, the words hanging in the air, almost disbelieving. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, the sensation grounding him as his pulse began to slow. The weight of the guilt, the sadness, the overwhelming sense of failure that had gripped him in the dream — those feelings still lingered, but they felt distant now, like they belonged to someone else.

He let out a shaky breath, his chest still tight. But it wasn't the nightmare that terrified him now — it was the realization that, for a moment, it had felt so real. For a moment, he had believed that he was standing on the edge of everything he had lost, everything he had failed to protect.

The feeling of his mother's presence — her disappointment, her sadness — was still fresh in his mind, and as much as he wanted to dismiss it as just a figment of his dream, something deep inside told him it wasn't that simple.

He looked toward the window, his gaze falling on the serene scene outside. The sun was shining brightly, the sky a calm blue, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was a peaceful, ordinary day — the kind of day he had taken for granted.

But then the memory of last night hit him. His harsh words. He had shouted at his mother, had let his frustration spill over, unable to understand the pressures she had been under, unable to grasp the weight of her own pain.

"I should apologize to her," Felix thought, the words quietly slipping into his mind like a forgotten truth. He wasn't sure if it was guilt or something deeper pulling at him, but he knew it was the right thing to do. She was still alive. She was still here, and yet, he had pushed her away.

Felix pushed himself off the bed, his feet hitting the cool floor with a soft thud. His hands were still trembling slightly, the remnants of the dream clinging to him like cobwebs. But he couldn't ignore the growing ache in his chest — the need to make things right, to undo the damage he had done before the harsh words took root in a place where they couldn't be undone.

He stepped toward the door, hesitating for a moment, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him. Could he truly fix things? Could a simple apology be enough to repair the hurt he had caused?

As he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, he felt a cold shiver run through him. The house was eerily quiet, too quiet for his liking. His mother's room was on the other side of the hall. He had avoided her since Evelyn's death, not knowing how to face her.

But now, with the dream still echoing in his mind, he knew he couldn't let things stay the way they were. He needed to confront it, needed to find the courage to face her and speak the words that had been stuck in his throat.

Felix stood in front of her door, his hand resting on the doorknob. A part of him hesitated — what if she was still upset? What if she didn't want to hear his apology? The fear of rejection gripped him, but something inside him pushed him forward.

With a deep breath, he turned the handle and opened the door.

The room was empty.

His heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat as he scanned the room. The bed was neatly made, the soft morning light spilling in through the window, but there was no sign of his mother. 

"Mom?" Felix called out, his voice unsteady, a sense of panic rising in his chest. The silence stretched on, the quietness of the house becoming oppressive. He stepped into the room, his footsteps soft against the carpet as he made his way toward the window.

Her clothes were missing from the closet, and there was no sign of her on the bed. Felix's stomach twisted in sudden unease. Where could she be? Had she gone out? Had something happened overnight? The panic he had felt earlier in the dream seemed to return, more real this time.

Just as the anxiety began to rise within him, he heard the faint sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen.

Felix's heart skipped. He turned quickly, his mind racing as he bolted down the hall, his feet pounding against the floorboards. He reached the kitchen, his breath quick and shallow, and found his mother standing there, her back to him as she stood by the stove, preparing breakfast with a maid.

She turned around as he entered, her eyes soft but tired. She smiled faintly when she saw him.

"Morning, Felix," she said gently, the warm scent of pancakes filling the room.

Felix swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stepped closer. The weight of the argument last night still hung in the air between them, and he could feel it pressing down on his chest.

"Mom," he began, his voice low, almost hesitant. 

"I… I owe you an apology. For last night. I shouldn't have shouted at you. I was angry, and I didn't understand what you were going through. I… I was wrong."

His mother didn't say anything immediately, but her gaze softened, and she placed the spoon down on the counter. For a long moment, she just stood there, looking at him, like she was deciding whether or not to accept his apology. Finally, she sighed and nodded, her eyes glistening with something Felix couldn't quite place. 

"Felix… we both say things we don't mean sometimes." 

Felix nodded, his throat tight. "I'm sorry. For everything."

She stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, the warmth of her touch grounding him in a way he hadn't realized he needed. 

"I know, Felix," she said softly, a hint of sadness in her voice. "I know."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Felix let out a long breath, his body releasing the tension he hadn't even known he was holding. In the quiet of that moment, standing with his mother, everything felt… a little bit more bearable. He still didn't know what was coming, didn't know how to face the darkness of the world outside. But he had made one thing right. And that, for now, was enough.

"Oh, Mom, by the way…" Felix hesitated, then added, 

"Is there any way to contact Uncle Jack and my cousins?"