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“Take your time,” he said calmly.
“Everyone seated and buckled before we move.”
Over the next week, parents began to notice patterns they couldn’t quite explain, because Rowan never touched his phone, never sped even when cars piled up behind him, never crept into intersections when the light turned green, always leaving more space than required, always waiting until every child was safely inside before closing the door, his gaze tracking reflections like a habit he couldn’t unlearn even if he wanted to.
Still, the whispers grew louder.
“He doesn’t smile at them.”
“He looks angry all the time.”
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