Kelly – First Person POV

The soft hum of the dishwasher buzzed from the kitchen, and outside, wind swayed the trees outside. I was arranging fruit in a bowl, grapes, strawberries, a handful of sliced mango, because I remembered Aiden once said mango reminded him of summers with sticky fingers and because he loved it. Nostalgia made mothers do strange things. Like preparing fruit trays at nine-thirty at night.

Adrian was upstairs, reading some nonfiction book about ancient kings or power or something equally serious. I had half a mind to crawl into bed and fall asleep beside him, Harper’s gift already wrapped and placed on her dresser. But then...