Chapter Text
The silence of the East Wing breaks when Nora opens the email that should never have existed.
At first, she thinks it’s a sick joke… until she recognizes Alex’s jacket.
Then the full image loads.
Alex sitting on the floor, hands tied behind his back.
Silver tape crushing his cheeks, sealed tightly over his mouth.
His eyes… wide, wet, begging.
A fear he would never show unless he had no choice.
Nora screams for Ellen.
President Díaz arrives in seconds.
She stares at the screen.
No breathing.
No blinking.
Her fingers tremble only once before turning to steel.
“Who sent this?” she snarls.
But her voice cracks just barely when she sees her son’s eyes again, trapped behind the tape.
Henry rushes in—and a small meow echoes in the hallway.
It’s Sir Whiskers, the white kitten with a gray spot on his left ear.
The one Alex adopted secretly a month ago.
He follows Alex everywhere, sensing storms before they come.
The kitten darts straight to Henry, climbing on his shoes and meowing insistently, as if he already understands.
Henry doesn’t even realize he’s shaking until Sir Whiskers rubs his head against his ankle.
“What happened?” Henry asks, voice raw.
Nora can’t speak.
She simply turns the screen.
Henry sees the photo.
And shatters.
His knees almost give out when he catches every detail: the tape crushing Alex’s lips, the irritated skin, the terror in his eyes.
A terror Henry swore he’d never let return.
The kitten meows loudly, protesting the cruelty.
Henry breathes in, but the air hurts.
“No…” he whispers, stepping closer to the screen. “I won’t let it end like this.”
Sir Whiskers jumps onto the desk, sits by the keyboard, and stares at the photo as if searching for his missing human.
Ellen places a hand on Henry’s shoulder.
“We’re bringing him back,” she says. “Whatever it takes.”
For the first time, Henry nods—not with fear, but with fury and love.
Sir Whiskers purrs softly.
A tiny feline promise that Alex won’t be alone.