“If you don’t have anywhere to be Saturday, sir,” he said, his eyes steady on mine, “there’s a seminar on applied reasoning here.

It’s open to the public.

If you want to come, you can.” The invitation was a single drop of water on parched ground.

It was not forgiveness.

It was not a tearful reunion.

It was a door, opened a fraction of an inch, offered by a boy with far more grace than his father had ever shown.

“Thank you, Hugo,” I said, fighting the burn behind my eyes.

“I’ll be there.” He gave a small nod — a ghost of a smile at the edge of his mouth — and walked back to his mother.