The night air is cold. Not the sharp, punishing cold of deep winter—but something softer. Something that settles on the skin like a secret. Dew clings to everything, invisible rain that leaves no trace except the dampness on your sleeves and the chill that blooms across your cheeks.
I stand near my car, scrolling through my phone. The screen glows pale blue against the darkness, casting shadows across my face. My thumb moves without purpose, sliding over messages I'm not really reading. Sum's name appears. Then vanishes. Then appears again.
I glance at the door.
How much longer is he going to take?
A sigh slips from my lips—a small cloud of fog in the cold air, there for a moment, then gone.
Why did I even agree to take him out?
But the smile on his lips. The way his eyes catch the light—like the whole world is a gift he's just been given, and he can't believe his luck. All day he prepared like a child on the morning of a festival. Like this was his first time stepping outside.
