“What do you do?”
I glanced at Evelyn.
She intervened gently. “Adrian works in Chicago.”
Samuel considered this. “Do you know how to fix trains?”
I looked down at the wooden locomotive in his hand. One wheel had come loose.
“I can try.”
Julian brought me the small train and a screwdriver from a nearby drawer. I sat on the floor beside Samuel, careful not to move too close. He watched everything I did with solemn attention.
The wheel required a small metal pin. My fingers were more accustomed to signing documents than repairing toys, but after several attempts, I managed to secure it.
Samuel pushed the train across the table.
“It works.”
“It does.”
Lily leaned toward me. “Can you make it go fast?”
“I can try.”
She smiled.
Across the room, Evelyn watched silently. There was no sudden transformation, no easy forgiveness. Only a small opening, fragile and undeserved.
