13 | Mending fences

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The first day of August, 11:57 AM

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The first day of August, 11:57 AM

"Adio, hydrate," I say, thrusting the water bottle toward him again.

He mumbles, "Sure, sure," like a teenager promising to clean their room. I would know.

"Or else," I add with mock sternness, hoping to coax a smile.

I do. Hell yes.

"You're too bossy to be a helper," he sighs, taking a long drink. I'll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.

The sun is a relentless overseer as it's nearly midday. Gotta keep those fluids up, or we'll turn into human raisins.

We're tackling the back fence, a task long neglected, just like the Scott's front steps. Therapeutic, maybe, but exhausting. The hammering, the wires, the scent of old wood—it all grounds me. Exactly what I need.

I pause, wrestling with a stubborn spool of chicken wire, my thoughts drifting off. The house was way too quiet this morning with Pat and Raveena at work. Even Grey's not around. Now, I like a bit of alone time, but with too much solitude, I turn into a ghost. Spotting Adio outside was like finding a beacon in foggy weather. His vibrant presence pulled me right out of my blues.

I get the spool untangled in a matter of seconds, laying it out along the bottom for Adio to hammer in a few small nails.

"Your uncle's lucky to have you," Adio says. His compliment, meant to be light, weighs on me. They don't know I'm barely holding it together.

I force a smile, shifting my fingers as he nails along the top. "I'd bring the whole thing down on my own."

He chuckles at me.

As the sun climbs higher, our conversation meanders like a lazy river, and it's such a nice feeling, just to talk without someone like him. I wish Greyson could've had a father like Adio.

He likes to talk about home a lot. Trinidad. "The streets were alive with music."

"No gossip?" I prod, smiling slightly.

"Well, sure—as are humans—but not like here. And when it happened, it was hard to hear. Calypso rhythm can make even the most sullen skies dance, you see."

I can't help but smile as I shift the wire again. "What was it like, growing up there?"

"Colourful. Full of life, laughter, love. Pure love. My friends and I would chase through the streets, the air thick with food and salt."

I can almost feel the humid Caribbean breeze on my face as he talks.

"Have you travelled much, Ember?" Adio's gaze is curious as he pushes another nail into the wire.

"No, but I've always wanted to go somewhere. Or anywhere." I shift along the ground on my knees. My jeans are stained super-duper green.

"My son, he's got the itch too, wants to see the world," he sighs.

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