The moment Cammy slid into the backseat of the taxi, the cold weight on her chest began to lift—just a little. As the city streets blurred past the window, so did the memory of Greg's words, his distant eyes, and that final blow of calling himself her "big brother."
She closed her eyes, exhaled deeply—and when she opened them again, she chose joy. Not for herself. For Dylan.
Her fingers danced across her phone screen, scrolling through parks, museums, indoor playgrounds, and weekend fairs. She bookmarked places with colorful rides and kid-friendly menus, already imagining the excitement lighting up Dylan's face. Her broken heart could wait. But Dylan's happiness? That couldn't.
"Excuse me, can we stop at Chickie Junction? The one with the drive-thru?" she asked the driver with a warm smile, her voice softer now, lighter.
