“Mom?” Chad asked, his voice trembling.

The woman’s face strained with emotional pain as she pressed the empty bags tighter against her coat.

“Chad,” she said softly.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I live right here,” Chad answered, pointing a shaking hand toward the modern residence.

“That is my house, Mom.”

She looked up at the expansive house, the black windows, and the three car garage.

“I had no idea which house belonged to you,” she whispered softly.