As Mikhail drives to our destination, I lean closer to the car window and watch the busy road. The snowflakes rush through it. I take a chance to slide off of the car window. I put it out of my hand and feel the snowflakes into my inner palm.
My body flinches when a cold breeze climbs around me. Yet, I'm pleased when it's winter, it feels like my father is with me, playing with me like when I'm a child.
"You love winter," Mikhail says out of nowhere.
I slide in the car window and glance at him. "I am. My father usually plays with me when it's winter."
"I remember that your father passed away. Are you okay with your step-father?" He asks.
"I'm okay with my step-father. He's a great man and he loves my mother so I'm okay with it. Also, he's my friend's father so it'll not be hard for me to adjust to his family." I explain.
"That's great to hear. I don't know what to do if my mother or my father remarried."
