CHAPTER 209: JOURNEY BACK

Hailee’s POV

Callum looked at us for a long moment before finally saying, "Can we wait until the afternoon to leave?"

I frowned a little. "Why?"

He sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "An urgent meeting just came up," he explained. "One I can’t avoid. If you wait until after it, I can drive you all myself."

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to agree, but another part of me knew better. If Callum came with us, he and Nathan would see each other—and that would only cause trouble. I couldn’t risk that, not after everything that had already happened.

"There’s no need for that," I said softly but firmly. "Your driver can take us."

He frowned. "Hailee—"

"It’s fine," I cut in gently. "Really. We should go now."

He looked at me for a long moment, searching my face like he wanted to say something more. But when he realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, he nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. "Alright," he said quietly. "If that’s what you want."

"It is," I whispered.

He turned to the boys then, trying to keep his voice steady. "Come here," he said, crouching slightly.

Oscar went first, hugging him tightly. "Thank you for everything, Alpha Callum," he said, smiling a little.

"Anytime, champ," Callum said, patting his back.

Ozzy hugged him next. "Will you come visit?" he asked quietly.

Callum gave a small smile. "If your mom says it’s okay."

Then he turned to Oliver.

For a second, neither of them moved. Oliver just stared at him, his expression serious—too serious for a ten-year-old. Then Callum pulled him into a firm hug, holding him close.

"You did good, Oliver," he said quietly, his voice low so only Oliver could hear. "You’re strong—just like your mother. Take care of your brothers, alright?"

Oliver nodded, his small arms wrapping around Callum. "I will."

When they finally pulled apart, Callum stood up straight, his eyes meeting mine once more. There was so much tension between us. But we said nothing. He walked us to the front yard, where the car was already waiting. The driver stood by, ready, while another black SUV with three guards waited behind.

Callum placed a hand on the car door and looked at me. "I told them to drive carefully," he said softly.

"Thank you," I replied.

The boys climbed in first, having a conversation among themselves. I paused before getting in, glancing at him one last time. For a heartbeat, it felt like the world slowed—like both of us knew this goodbye carried more weight than words could hold.

Then I nodded slightly. "Goodbye, Callum."

He smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Goodbye, Hailee. I’ll call you."

I got into the car, the door closing softly behind me.

As the car started moving, I looked through the window—and saw him still standing there, watching until we turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

The hum of the car filled the silence. For a while, no one said anything. The boys sat quietly, each lost in his own thoughts, while the road stretched endlessly ahead. The morning sun filtered through the trees, spilling soft light into the car. I leaned my head against the window, trying not to think about Callum or anything at all.

But peace never lasted long with my boys.

"Mom?" Oliver’s voice broke the silence.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I replied, keeping my eyes on the passing trees.

He hesitated before speaking again. "If you like Alpha Callum," he began slowly, "why don’t we just stay back there? He’s nice to us... and you smiled more when you were with him."

My heart sank. I turned to look at him—his face so serious, his little hands fidgeting with the seatbelt. "Oliver..." I said softly, unsure where to start. "It’s not that simple."

"Why not?" he asked, his brows furrowing. "He treats you better than—"

"Stop it," Oscar cut in sharply, glaring at his brother. "Don’t force Mom to pick. You don’t know how hard it is for her."

Oliver frowned, crossing his arms. "I’m not forcing her. I just think—"

"I said stop, Oliver!" Oscar snapped again, his voice rising. "Mom doesn’t need this right now!"

Their argument filled the car, the sound of their voices bouncing around like tiny hammers against my head.

Then Ozzy—quiet, calm Ozzy—spoke up from the front seat beside the driver. "Both of them aren’t good for her," he said suddenly.

The car went silent again.

"What do you mean?" Oscar asked, turning toward him.

Ozzy shrugged, looking out the window. "Callum makes her sad... and Nathan makes her cry. So maybe neither of them is right."

His words hit like a small dagger—innocent, but too close to the truth. I stared at my reflection in the window, swallowing hard. My heart clenched at his honesty. I wanted to say something—to defend them, or maybe myself—but I couldn’t find the words.

The boys went quiet again after that. The only sound was the steady hum of the engine and the faint rustle of the wind outside.

A flicker of unease rippled through me, though I couldn’t tell why

Then something changed.

The driver’s hands tightened on the wheel. I noticed the way his shoulders stiffened, his posture tense.

"Is everything alright?" I asked carefully.

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror, then back to the road. His breathing grew uneven. "Ma’am... I think the brakes—"

Before he could finish, the car jolted. Hard.

My stomach dropped.

The boys screamed as the vehicle swerved violently to the side. My hand shot out, grabbing the seat in front of me as the tires screeched against the road.

"Hold on!" the driver shouted.

The car spun, the world outside turning into a blur of trees and dirt and sunlight flashing too fast to understand. I reached out, trying to pull Oliver toward me, but the force threw me back against the seat.

There was a deafening sound—metal crashing, glass shattering, the weight of the car slamming against something solid.

A tree.

The impact was so strong that the world seemed to collapse into noise and pain.

My head hit the window, stars bursting behind my eyes. I heard Oscar cry out. I tried to call their names, but my voice didn’t come out. Everything was moving and still all at once.

Then... silence.

The world went white.

And then black.

The last thing I remembered was the faint scent of smoke and the sound of the boys’ voices—fading, echoing somewhere far, far away.

Then there was nothing.