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wasn’t quite as toned as she once had been, but there had been a day long ago when she was almost perfect. From the time she was little until she found out she was pregnant, her life had revolved around two things—ballet and New York City. As a single mom years later, it was all she could do to pop in a workout video a couple of times a week, but years of training left a permanent mark.
    Having always been thin, it was cleaning houses that kept her fit these days. What started out as a way to work around Kolby’s work schedule, keeping Dallas out of daycare, had since turned into her own small business. Having two people under her afforded her the flexibility of working hard while Dallas was at school, but left her weekends free to live at the various tracks they now jokingly called home.
    “You’re a brat.” She stuck her tongue out at her son, and then roughed his sun-streaked light brown hair up when he made his way back to the open package of cookies.
    He had always been a beautiful baby, then an adorable little boy, but now as he was aging. Honor had to laugh. Growing up in a speck of a town outside of Nashville was their life, but her son looked more like a California surfer boy. His hair was a little shaggy, curling at his neck and over his ears, bleached from more time spent outside than in. He even had the start of what would become a dark golden tan by the end of the summer.
    It was that twinkle in those gray eyes that haunted her. On more than one occasion when his voice dropped an octave, she could hear it. His humor the exact same. The inflections certain words had. Her son was a carbon copy of his father. Some days the resemblance stole her breath.
    “Yeah, but I’m your brat,” he said then showed her his mouthful of chewed-up nastiness.
    Yep, fucking identical.
    Some days it scared the absolute hell out of her.
    “You’re disgusting. Hey, buddy…” Her tone had softened with the last two words.
    Immediately, the shine left and his gray eyes lowered, his shoulders sagged. “I know, Mom. You don’t have to say anything.”
    “I was just going to say, it’ll be okay. I promise. We’ll just keep reading extra at night, and I’ll take you to the library more so you can work on those math websites. We’ll stay on top of it. Okay?”
    Honor hated that school was so hard for him. Dallas was extremely bright, she could see it, could feel it. But his grades didn’t show it. Meeting after meeting with his teachers, counselors, and even the principal this time were beginning to wear her down. It was completely taxing to be the only one fighting for her child. They had been trying to convince her for the last two years he had ADD.
    He didn’t.
    She knew her son. She knew him better than any one at that school. There wasn’t any proof that she could use to her advantage, only a gut feeling. The statistics and lectures the professionals gave her said it all in black and white. But a mother knows her child—and she knew Dallas. The over-the-hill teacher he had this year was her biggest opponent and lacked any patience with a child who didn’t catch on immediately to whatever she was trying to teach. As far as Honor was concerned, the old bat should have done their small community a favor and retired two decades ago.
    Honor kept holding on to the hope that once he got into middle school, and wasn’t stuck with the same teacher all day every day, it would be better. That if he had some variety with his schedule and the classes, he might flourish. Projects he did at school that were hands on, went great. It was all the rest of the work that seemed to deal him fits. She knew that once he hit the higher grade levels, he’d fall in love with science and the experiments. In technology classes, drafting, and design, like in shop, she knew he’d excel. But the elementary teachers just never saw what she did.
    He would listen to his uncle, hanging on every single word, whether it was about motocross in