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He nods. "If you meant it about needing help."

"I meant it."

"Then I'll come back."

I'd like to ask when. I don't. "I'd like that."

He gives me a small smile. "Me too."

I shove my hands into my pockets. "Drive safe."

His smile gets a little bigger. "I will." Then he steps toward me. I don't have time to wonder what he's doing. He hugs me. This time there's no missed handshake. No awkward decision about where our arms are supposed to go. I put mine around him. He holds on. So do I.

It isn't long. It doesn't need to be.

When he steps back, his eyes are a little brighter. Mine probably are too.

"I'll see you, Javier."

"See you, Diego."

He gets into his car. I stand in the parking lot while he pulls onto Main Street. The box goes with him. All the words I should have given him when I wrote them. I don't know what he'll feel when he reads them. But he came. He stayed. He wants to come back. And this time, when my son drives away, he takes a piece of those missing years with him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Madison

Julian calls Sunday night at eight seventeen. I know the exact time because I've been staring at his name on my phone for the last six seconds.

Mom looks up from the other end of the couch. "Are you going to answer that?"

"Yes." The phone keeps ringing. She raises an eyebrow. "Eventually?"

I stand. "I'm answering it."

"Of course you are."

I take the call into the kitchen. "Hi."

"Please tell me you're somewhere with terrible reception and that's why it took you that long."

"I was deciding whether I like you."

"And?"

"Still reviewing the evidence."

"Good. You can do that on the plane."

I stop. "What plane?"

"The one bringing you back to New York." The teasing disappears from his voice. So does mine.

"Julian."

"Maddy, I need you here."

I lean against the counter. Behind me, Mom lowers the television. Subtle.