He was a child.

It was never his job.

The carrying of this family was mine, and his only job, his single job, was to be my son, and to let me be the parent, and to be thirteen.

I would have said it a hundred times if that was what it took.

I have said it many times since.

Chapter 24 — Worked Until His Hands Bled

Sal cleared his throat then, and I saw that the big man was wiping a tear from his own weathered face, roughly, as though embarrassed by it.