@WraithWalking "I told her plenty. She's excited, y'know. Ain't no grandparents to be had on Hanzo's side, so now she gets the whole," jazz hands, "experience."
@WraithWalking innocent and one dimensional tale about Abuelo Gabe he could, even if it meant he lied a bit. What good would it do to be honest with her? Cole decided he wanted to try for a relationship with Reyes, wanted to try to allow him in Akiko's life. Everything else was just confetti.
@WraithWalking all the way open and waves Reyes in.
It's a mess inside, half-picked up and half-destroyed, with hard plastic figurines littered on the floor and an abandoned plate of toddler-friendly snacks forgotten on the coffee table. Cole quickly kicks some of the toys under the couch
@WraithWalking
The letter comes weeks after Reyes leaves, possibly for the last time.
Akiko on his hip, Cole pops open the mailbox and shuffles through all the letters. Mostly spam, some advertisements from companies in town. Not many places use snail mail nowadays.
@WraithWalking He opens the door all the way, out of breath. "Child, you're killin' me," he says. He grabs her by her head and maneuvers her out of the way of the door. She's apparently used to it because she doesn't protest at all, just moves obediently to the side. Cole cracks the door
@WraithWalking There is a sudden burst of yelling inside -- two voices, one Cassidy's and one Akiko's.
Akiko is the one to open the door. She *beams* at Gabriel, the picture of childish innocence, just happy to see him despite the complicated history, and Cole follows up behind her.
He folds the letter and places it in his back pocket. "'Kiko!" He calls. His daughter stops poking through grass and runs up to him. "Abuelo Gabe is comin' next week. You excited, honey?"
Akiko babbles and offers him a rock she found. He takes that as a yes.
Could be anthrax but that's old fashioned. Cole sets Akiko to stand near the mailbox and opens the envelope several yards away from her.
Well, not a bomb. Just a letter in near handwriting: October 23rd, noon.
Well, he could tell that handwriting from a country mile.