Marked By My Best Friend's Dad
“Go on. Don’t chicken out.”
I slid the tape into the old player we’d kept for… well, purposes like this. The screen flickered to life, a quiet static filling the room before the first image appeared.
There they were. My children.
Alice’s golden hair glinted in the sun as she vaulted over a swinging platform, eyes focused, every muscle in her small body taut with strength. She moved with a grace and precision that made my breath catch. And then Rowan appeared, small but resolute, his wolf energy shimmering faintly beneath his skin, illuminating the edges of his arms and legs like some soft, dangerous aura.
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