Nova’s POV

  “Pass the popcorn, Daddy,” I said, reaching across the sectional couch toward Rowan, my voice light and casual as the movie flickered on the screen, casting shifting lights over the dim living room where the three of us sat snuggled under the big fleece blanket that draped across our laps.

  Mom was wedged right in the middle between us, her head already nodding a little as the film’s opening scenes dragged on, the soft hum of the air conditioner mixing with the low dialogue from the TV, and I felt Rowan’s fingers brush mine when he handed over the bowl, the touch lingering just a second longer than...