“It worked!” she said, her eyes shining with the wisdom of childhood.

“What worked?” Cam asked, his gaze darting back to the boys.

“My experiment!” She raised her hands in victory.

“Well, I think it’s about to get interesting,” I said as I spied the taller boy coming over. He fumbled with the pin but eventually got the back through his polo and fastened it.

“Rose!” he called, waving enthusiastically. “Look!” He pointed to the pin.

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Drake, but it’s too late.”

“And way too early,” Cam muttered, earning him a poke with my elbow.

“But I like it! I really do!” he proclaimed with big blue eyes.

“No you don’t.” She shook her head emphatically. “You just want me to think you like it. There’s a difference.”

“Burn,” Cam drawled.

“No one says that anymore,” Rose lectured him, but she did it with a smile.

“Fine,” Drake snapped, ripping the pin from his shirt and leaving a hole in the fabric. “Keep your stupid unicorn. I don’t want it anyway.” He thrust it at Rose, and when she didn’t take it back, Cam reached over and took it for her.

The boy looked up and up, and when he finally met Cam’s eyes, his widened. Then he ran.

“Thank you for proving my hypothesis!” Rose shouted after him.

“That’s the word! Good job!” I told her with a high five.

Cam had already fastened the pin above the Rose Rowan logo on the button-down shirt he wore. I had zero doubt the white fabric would be stained with dirt by the end of the first train run, but I loved that he had the sleeves rolled up, not caring what anyone thought of his tattoos.

“Camden, the newspaper is here all the way from Denver. They’re hoping to get an interview with you and Xander and maybe your dad?” Walt asked with more than a little hesitation. “It’s understandable if you want to say no or if you’d like to use his camera to violently bash your brother over the head.”

A smile ghosted Cam’s lips, and he sighed. “It’s okay, Walt. It’s good for the mine, and with the cost of at-home care, I’ll take all the free publicity I can get.”

“Don’t have too much fun,” I told him.

He kissed me as a reply. He was doing that more often, too—kissing me in public, ignoring what anyone thought about him or us. It wasn’t an act of rebellion like it would have been when he was younger. Now it was because he genuinely didn’t care what anyone thought and knew I didn’t, either.

We were happy, and that made all the difference.

“I should have brought one for you, too,” Rose mumbled.