The arrogance had been burned out of him, leaving only exhaust fumes and regret.

Linda stopped two feet from the gate. She didn’t reach through the bars to touch him.

“Mom,” Ethan choked out. His voice shattered into a pathetic, desperate sound. “Mom, I’m so sorry.”

Linda looked at the grease on his collar, the cheap shoes, the way he trembled in the cold. A mother’s heart is a terrifying mechanism; it can endure unimaginable abuse and still instinctively want to warm her child.

But Linda had survived the storm.

“Why are you here, Ethan?” she asked, her voice steady, carrying over the wind.