He lifted a carrier onto the porch.
Inside was the baby. Warm. Pink-cheeked. Alive.
“This is Lucas,” he said.
Noah held him like glass.
The baby curled his fingers into Noah’s hoodie and didn’t let go.
Reyes swallowed.
“He remembers you,” he said.
After the officer left, Noah stared at the park across the street.
“Even if everyone laughs at me,” he said, “I know I did the right thing.”
Continue reading…
