Chapter 8: A Father Who Had Hit Rock Bottom
Marcus explained everything in pieces.
He had lost his job months earlier.
Then his truck broke down.
Then rent swallowed what little he had left.
He had been picking up day labor whenever he could, leaving before sunrise and coming home too tired to notice the quiet ways Caleb was shrinking.
“I thought if there was food in the house, I was still managing,” he said.
His voice was raw.
“I didn’t know he was going to school like that.”
I wanted to be angry at him.
Part of me was.
But another part remembered what grief had done to me after Daniel died. How bills piled up. How pride made help feel like humiliation. How easy it was to mistake surviving for doing well.
Marcus looked at me.
“I didn’t know who helped him until the office called Emma in.”
He turned back toward my daughter.
“You saw my son when I didn’t.”
Emma’s face softened.
“I just wanted him to have shoes.”
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