Wren
“Do you think Mitch will come back?” I ask Ezra, legs swinging from the kitchen island with a lollipop in my mouth.
He shrugs. “We hope not. Last we checked, he went back to his town.”
“What of…Hannah?” My voice drops lower. “Will you ever take her to meet her dad…or mom?”
He places the last of our plates on the rack and turns to me.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I haven’t seen Pete since the accident, but from what Mitch said…he’s, more or less, gone. And I don’t know where Diane is.” Ezra settles between my thighs. “What do you think?”
My brain scrambles for a bit, utterly caught off guard that he’s asking for my opinion.
Sinking my fingers through his hair, I play with the soft strands. “I think after a while when Mitch—and you—are calm, you could reach out to him about it. Then,
