The trail wound sharply through the trees, steep and narrow in places, forcing the group to move carefully. Danielle’s eyes followed John a few paces ahead. His pace was steady, deliberate, as though he had walked this trail a hundred times before.
Only a few days ago, she’d learned the truth. John was her grandfather. The revelation still sat heavy in her chest. Would he stay when this was over? Would he vanish again, leaving her with nothing but questions and half-truths?
A tug at her sleeve broke her out of her thoughts. Rowan’s small hand pressed lightly against her arm, and he pointed down. “Look at the pretty colors!”
Danielle followed his gaze and noticed how sunlight had caught in his water bottle, bending into little arcs that danced across the ground. Tiny, fleeting rainbows
