Aurora’s POV
I always thought that if I could see and use it to imagine the moment, I would see my father again.
In every version, he was angry. Cold. Untouched by time. Still, the man walked away from me without looking back.
But the man sitting across from me in the cabin was none of those things. He looked… small and gentle.
The fire burned low between us, casting a weak orange glow over the rough wooden walls. Outside, the wind howled through the trees like a warning we were too late to hear. Inside, my father sat hunched forward, his hands clasped together as if he were praying to a God he no longer believed in.
His hair had gone almost completely gray. Deep lines carved his face, lines that hadn’t been there the last time I saw him. His eyes, once sharp, commanding, were now rim
