4
Mila
I chewed off my thumb nail while watching the front windows, head swiveling side to side waiting for Devon to ride into view. The neighborhood was quiet with a dozen or so houses, so I had no clue what he did all those hours while riding around.
He should have been back by now.
My stomach twisted tight. I did not want to be a helicopter parent. I wanted Devon to have his freedom, but my inner protective nature over my only child fought tooth and nail. I’d been doing my best to give him space, but it was hard. I know I failed more often than not.
A rush of breath left me as he came around the corner, peddling lazily through the sticky afternoon.
I yanked open the door the second his foot hit the stoop, the August air blasting my face like a damn furnace. “Where have you been? I
