ROWAN CARTER
Hazel stood a few steps away from me. She looked exactly the way I remembered her. Breathingly beautiful.
Straight blond hair falling softly over her shoulders. Deep grey eyes that had always been too perceptive for their own good. There was a quiet sadness in them now, but her lips were curved in a gentle smile. The smile was however slightly sad and I hate it.
She wore a light green gown. The fabric moved slightly with the breeze, brushing softly around her legs.
For a moment I couldn’t breathe because in her arms… She was holding a child, a small boy wrapped in a soft white onesie, his tiny hand curled around the fabric near her collarbone.
My son.
The sight of him hit me like a physical blow and I felt hard to breathe. Hazel looked down at him first, her expression
