me holding yesterday’s drawing.
The fourth figure near the rocket was no longer unfinished.
Luke had added dark hair.
A blue shirt.
Long legs.
And beneath it, in Cassandra’s handwriting, was a name he must have asked her to spell.
DAMON
I stared at it.
Luke pointed proudly.
“Te puse en la casa del cohete”.
Mi garganta apretada.
“Thank you.”
“Do you want pancakes?”
“Very much.”
He grabbed two of my fingers and began pulling me toward the kitchen.
Daniel watched from the doorway.
His expression changed slightly.
Not forgiveness.
