Kingston
The moment I heard the word "Dad,” everything around me paused.
The noise in the restaurant, the chatter of families, the clink of silverware—all of it faded. None of it mattered but that one word and the little boy who had said it.
I turned slowly as the bullying children scattered, unsure of what I expected to see. The speaker stunned me immediately into stillness.
It was the boy from earlier—the one who’d nearly fallen down the stairs at the doctor’s office—was looking right at me.
Riley.
His big eyes, still damp with tears, stared up at me, a flicker of recognition and confusion flashing across his face.
“Why did you call me that?” I asked. I crouched down so I was eye-level with him.
He blinked and looked away awkwardly. “Your shirt,” he said softly, tugging at the
