A Memory in Rain and Flesh

My roommate's uncle, River Wilde, had retired from the military. Word was he'd suffered nerve damage and would be wheelchair-bound for life.

Most critically, he was impotent.

But five years ago, on that stormy night, it was him. The man who'd left me so exhausted I could barely walk.

I went to pick him up from the airport, terrified he'd recognize me.

Until he saw my four-and-a-half-year-old son.

That scar through his eyebrow, identical to River's, was glaring under the lights.

The man stared at this miniature version of himself and suddenly smiled.