Another Sunday evening.
The sky dipped toward the Pacific, washing the deck in gold.
Leo leaned back comfortably in his chair, legs stretched out, laughing as their dog nudged him for attention.
He shifted without flinching.
Without hesitation.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for believing me.”
Michael wrapped his arm around him.
“Always,” he said. “That’s my job.”
The city lights flickered on below the hills.
And for the first time in a long time, Sunday didn’t feel like an inspection.
