The Watcher in the Pines

ROMAN

I watched my son's face light up as we approached the campsite I'd prepared the day before. The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall pines, casting long shadows across the small clearing where I'd set up our tent and a fire ring.

"We're here!" Fabian bounced in his seat, nose pressed against the window. "Dad, is that our tent?"

"It is," I said, pulling the truck to a stop. "I came out yesterday to set everything up. Wanted to make sure we had the perfect spot."

His eyes widened. "You built it already? Without me?"

The disappointment in his voice made me realize my mistake immediately.

"Just the basic structure," I clarified quickly. "We still need to put in the sleeping bags, arrange our gear inside, and make it officially ours. I figured you'd want to be in charge of the interior decorating."

That brought his smile back. "I can put my special rocks by the door to protect us!"

I ruffled his hair as I turned off the engine. "Perfect security system."