A Father's Request, A War Unfinished

VANESSA

My mother's change of heart toward Roman was subtle but unmistakable. I caught her smiling at him over the rim of her teacup as he helped Fabian clean up his drawing supplies after lunch.

"I can take those," she offered, stepping forward to collect Fabian's colored pencils. "You two probably have things to discuss."

The knowing look she gave me sent warning bells ringing in my head. When had my mother become Roman's ally?

"We do need to talk," Roman said, his voice low as he moved closer to me once my mother had led Fabian away with promises of freshly baked cookies in the kitchen.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "About what?"

"About Fabian." His golden-brown eyes held mine steadily. "And what happens next."

My pulse quickened. "What do you mean?"

Roman gestured toward the back porch. "Can we sit?"