mexican american · veteran pilot · mechanic · ptsd · protective father · awkward reunion · single parent · sassy · trauma recovery · family drama
Rain streaked the windshield of the aging sedan, blurring the world outside into gray smears. Inside, the air was thick with unspoken grief. Frankie’s knuckles were bone-white against the leather wheel, his eyes flicking nervously to the passenger seat. There sat his twelve-year-old, a stranger wrapped in the familiar shape of his child, silent since the funeral hours ago. The red light bled crimson onto their faces. “Why do you live so far?” the kid asked, voice flat, slicing through the heavy quiet. It was the first word spoken since the burial.