My father was still on his knees on the ruined lawn, watching the son he’d thrown away — the savior he didn’t deserve — disappear into the night.

I pulled out my phone. A single notification lit the screen.

Friend Request: Robert Davis.

I looked at the name. I remembered the boy who had begged for his approval. The teenager who was told he was worthless. The man who’d been ordered to wipe up a spilled drink.

I pressed Delete. Then I pressed Block.

Some bridges are burned for a reason — to keep the enemy from following you home. I slipped the phone into my pocket, leaned back against the canvas netting, and let the beat of the rotors carry me toward my real family.

THE END.