Temperatures recorded.

Medications given.

Meals cooked.

Appointments kept.

There were no excuses left on the paper, no hidden receipts, and no mother’s money backing him up.

Beside the chart sat the Braun ear thermometer on its small plastic dock, its screen dark and resting.

I heard Ethan’s footsteps come up behind me in the warm room.

He didn’t make a grand declaration or ask if he was fully forgiven.

He simply stood beside me at the counter, his shoulder brushing mine in the dark.

I reached out, wrapped my fingers around his, and held his hand firmly in mine.