Chapter 5: Ember

I have replayed that moment a thousand times since. Seven years old. He didn't blink. My father stared at him for five full seconds — the kind of stare that makes grown wolves wet themselves — and Milo stared right back with his hands in his pockets. Then my father crouched down to his level. "What's your name, boy?" "Milo De Vonn." "Milo." A pause. "You're not what you look like." "Neither are you," Milo said. "You look like a man who'll fix things. You're actually a man who's late." I...