Tracing the Wind

ROWAN’S POV

He blinks. The word hits him harder than I expected, or maybe harder than I intended, because something in his expression collapses and rebuilds in the space of a breath.

I didn’t plan to call him Dad. It just came out. The muscle memory of this porch, this house, this man standing in this exact spot where he used to wait for me after school on the days he remembered to be there.

“Can