“I think he understands that better than I do,” I said.
Brovish’s hand found mine, our fingers linking.
“You’ll understand it when you’re ready.”
Gravel crunched in the parking lot. My mother had arrived. I went inside the enclosure and gave Cooper one final exam. He was ready, and I gently put him inside his carrier.
By the time we’d gathered everyone in the meadow adjacent to the facility, my mother had joined us in sensible flats and pants that hadn’t collected any mud yet.
She stopped a short distance away, not quite part of the group but not separate either.
Inside his carrier, Cooper shifted his weight, his feathers making quiet music.
“Are we ready?” I asked.
Brovish nodded. “Your decision when.”
I unlatched the door, swinging it open slowly so Cooper could see the sky beyond.
He didn’t move.
My pulse kicked up. What if he wasn’t ready? I could’ve misread the signs and his wing would fail him the moment he tried.
“It’s frightening,” I said softly, as much to myself as to him. “The first time always is.” I stepped back, giving him room. “Your wing knows what to do. You just have to trust it.”
Cooper’s head swiveled from me to the open door and the sky above. His wings rustled, metal feathers chiming like distant bells.
Trust it.
Like I was trusting that leaving my father’s clinic had been the right decision. I was trusting this place, these creatures, and Brovish. Letting my heart realize that all of this was where I belonged instead of where I’d run to.
Cooper stepped to the edge of the carrier.
I grabbed onto my pants, holding tight.
He launched.
His flight wobbled, dipping low enough that my stomach lurched. But he corrected, his wings finding the rhythm they’d lost, and he soared upward. Each beat was stronger than the last. He banked left, circled a few times, climbing higher with each pass.
My neck craned back as I followed his arc across the sky.
When he aimed for the tree line and disappeared into the green, my chest split wide open.
Letting go didn’t mean losing. It meant trusting something—someone—to find their own way home.
When I finally lowered my gaze, I found my mother watching me instead of the sky.
She stared at me as if she was seeing something she’d lost a long time ago and had just now remembered existed.
“That was remarkable,” she said.
“He was ready.”
“I meant you.”
The others went inside.
Brovish squeezed my hand once before following them, leaving me alone with my mother.
