Aiden WilderPOVThe Wilder family estate smelled like my mom’s famous pepper steak pie, my father’s strong hugo boss spicy cologne, the hint of ginger reminds me of my childhood. A familiar scent of home, somehow it both comforts me and suffocates me all at once. My parents sitting on the sofa in the living room, watching tv, as I walk in I see the concern and curiosity etched on their faces.“This is a surprise Aiden I didn’t know you’d be coming over.” my father says, voice deep, commanding, with the faintest edge of expectation. Tristan Wilder, retired FBI director, though retired my father still had me straighten my posture around him.“I had the day off so I thought I’d stop by...” I smile lowering myself into the arm chair across from them.My mother, Aria, smiled softly, she switches off the television “So how are you doing?” she asks. “It’s been… a couple of weeks, losing her and going straight back to work... We’re worried about how you’re doing Aiden.”I don’t say anything
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