Caspian
I was driving to work for the first time in weeks. Everything in me resisted leaving the house, but I had no choice. If I didn’t show up soon, the business I built from the ground up might fall apart completely.
My hands tightened around the wheel as my mind drifted dangerously back in time.
I was twelve years old when my mom took me on a trip to a quiet little island called Windmere. Just the two of us. She called it our birthday escape, since we were both November babies. I remember how excited she was, and how she said we needed time to just be—mother and son.
We spent those days running along the beach, building sandcastles, and eating ice cream until our stomachs hurt. She made me laugh so hard, I forgot every single worry I ever had as a kid. At night, we danced under the
