Another day had dawned, and my mind was set on a journey I'd been putting off for far too long – a visit to the graves of the people who'd raised me as their own, even though blood never tied us together.
"I'll have Kulas and Nilo go with you," Damon said, pulling my attention away from the mirror where I'd been fixing my hair.
I paused mid-brush, setting the comb down on the bedside table before crossing the room to stand in front of him. His broad frame filled the space in front of the window, and I reached up to smooth out the wrinkles in his polo shirt, my fingers moving carefully over the fabric. Next, I picked up his necktie from the dresser, looping it around his neck with practiced ease and tightening the knot just right – the way he liked it.
"Kulas can come with me alone," I said, adjusting the collar of his shirt one last time. "Let Nilo stay with you – you'll probably need someone to help with whatever work comes up today."
