No one noticed the exact moment Bryan slipped out of the car and made his way over, his small steps unsteady but determined, until suddenly his arms were wrapped tightly around Seraphine's legs, holding on like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.
It wasn't the movement that caught her attention, though, it was his voice, soft and fragile, carrying a familiarity that hit her straight in the chest.
She looked down almost instantly.
Bryan was staring up at her, his wide eyes filled with something she hadn't seen in a long time, something painfully close to hope, and it stirred emotions she had tried so hard to bury.
"Mommy," he said again, his voice trembling just a little as he held on tighter. "Bryan has been bad. You can punish me, but I'm sorry. Can you make me pancakes?"
The words landed heavier than they should have, simple and innocent, but loaded with guilt that didn't belong on a child's shoulders.
