For a second, Amara simply stared at the man in front of her as if she'd just walked into a memory wearing grown-up clothes. She was still halfway in a hug when her brain finally caught up, the scent of old summer afternoons and dusty orphanage hallways drifting up as she loosened her grip on him.
Hansen.
The name dropped into her thoughts like a pebble tossed into a quiet pond, sending every kind of ripple outward.
That boy. Her boy, well, not hers, obviously, but the one she used to look after like some miniature bodyguard with scraped knees and a temper too big for her size. And now here he was. Taller, somehow broader but not in a showy way, just… filled out. Sharper around the jaw. A little more grown-up mischief tucked into his smile.
