l breath fogging in the winter air. He died with the image of a newspaper in his mind, a glossy photo of his ex-wife, Sarah, and her new husband, Mark Thompson, cra

promised to send money for their son and his ailing mother, promised to bring them to her once Leo was bigger. The money came for two months, then stopped. David, loyal and naive, told himself

at life, he had made a desperate choice. He sold his kidney on the black market for a fraction of what it was worth. But the mo

lamed his incompetence for their deaths, served him divorce papers, and married M

ragged gasp to

bedroom. The air was thick with the familiar smell of dust, cheap disinfect

t skeletal, were still calloused and strong from his job. He looked arou

came from t

ispered, his v

's bedroom. Susan Miller lay on a worn-out cot, her face pale and gaunt

id you get some sleep?" she a

eak. He just knelt by her cot and gripped her fra

nts jerky. There was Leo, his small body curled under a thin blanket, his face flushed with fev

bing David' s finger. The simple, trusting touch sent a jolt through David. This was real. He was

a secon

, of their healthy baby, ignited a fire in his gut. The grief was still

re selling parts of himself for a woman

oice steady and clear

sed. "Leaving? David, wher

s son. "That's why we have to go. We're go

mpled dollar bills and some loose change. Not nearly enough. He looked around the room, his eyes scanning their meager possessions. An

pathetic. This is what Sarah' s ambition had left them with. He grabbed a worn-out duffel bag and packed the food, along

his mother couldn't walk that far. He went to his neighbor, an old trucker named Gus whose rig was often parked dow

s asked, eyeing the sick wo

id said. "The r

nk. I'm heading that way now. Can get you t

d always described the city as a world away, an impossibly long jou

lding Leo securely against his chest, shielding him from the cold morning air. As the truck rumbled to life and p

is arms and the soft, shallow breaths of his mother beside him. He wasn't the same man who had suffered in silence. The old Davi

towers of glass and steel. Gus dropped them off near a park that bordered a neighborhood of opulent

y promises. He helped his mother to a bench, wrapping her in his own jacket, before walking towards the bui

en he

he had imagined. She wore a stylish white coat that probably cost more than he made in thre

and he slid a possessive arm around her waist as t

rich. They looked like they d

o his bones, his son' s feverish weight a heavy reality