“Good hustle out there today,” Walt said.

“They played hard,” I said.

Walt gave me a single firm nod.

He walked down the metal steps and headed for the parking lot without another word.

That evening, Luke and I drove home in the minivan.

The heater hummed softly, pushing warm air against my frozen ankles.

The streetlights of Kearney passed at regular intervals, throwing yellow shadows across the dashboard.

I watched the houses roll by, thinking about the quiet evening ahead of us.