A feather.
It’s not colorful like the one that’s inked on Peyton’s foot, but the meaning behind it is just as powerful.
I pick it up, swirling the quill between my thumb and index finger as I remember what Peyton had said about her mom leaving feathers to let her know she’s still here. Maybe Finley is trying to tell me the same thing.
I take a deep inhale and let it out slowly, a calm settling the storm inside of me.
“I’m free and now you are too.”
“I love you,” I whisper to the wind.
“I love you too,”it whispers back.