Gideon called that night, and I let it ring until it stopped. Weeks later we sat across a diner table, and he said nothing for a long time, which was the most honest thing he could have done. Now, on Saturday mornings, I stand on the edge of a soccer field with a thermos, and Theo scans the sidelines before every kickoff.
He finds me first, every time. Blood answers a question on paper, but a father is answered by who is standing there.
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