When Leo finally ran out of words, his father reached for him slowly, giving the boy room to pull away if he wanted. Leo didn’t. He stepped forward, and the man wrapped both arms around him, pulling him in with the desperate force of a man who had once let go and never forgiven himself for it. He cried into the child’s wet jacket without trying to hide it, while Leo clung to him like he was still afraid the moment might disappear.
Sean had seen grief before, and relief, and regret. He had never seen all three arrive in the same breath. Something in him gave way. Maybe it was the sight of this boy crossing half the city alone because he still believed his father might come through when it mattered most. Maybe it was the man holding on as if losing Leo again would finish him. Whatever it was, Sean turned his face aside and wept silent tears in the rain before finally stepping forward and saying, very gently, “Sir? I need to talk to you.”