“Where are we going?” Huck finally asks when I lead him out onto the back porch. Cool October air bites into my skin, colder than usual, promising future snow. I use it to ground myself, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. “The track.” “But I can’t ride,” he answers sadly. “I know.” Turning toward him, I meet his eyes with my own. “But I want to talk to you, and you don’t trust me right now. So we’re going to Delaware.”
