No Pity For A Mother's Tears

ttered, and finally settled

ge on his skin. Here, in the quiet of his late grandfather' s dusty garage, surrounded by the smell of oil and old metal, h

commercial flight and then a bus, carrying a single, worn-out duffel bag. Down the street, his company

re expensive car. A sleek, black Bentley rolled to a stop in front of the open garage door,

dressed in expensive, tailored clothes that screamed wealth and status. They

blue, landed on Alex. They widen

him?" she whispered,

s face a mask of practiced solemnity. He strode f

, his voice a little too

t watched them, his expression unreadable. He had known this day would come. He had known for three years, ever sinc

Alex said, h

forward. She stopped just short of him, her eyes scanning h

tears welling up. "My dear bo

uch his cheek, but hesitated

ce. The tears, the trembling voice, the pained expression. It was all ver

epeated, his tone flat

houlder. "Son, we know this is a shock. We... we made a terrible mist

ex thought. He wondered what had changed. W

in small, faded scars and fresh calluses from years of working with tools and machinery

a sharp, the

oft, foreign. "Oh, Richard, look at his hands! What have you be

ng onto his grease-stained skin. She held his hand as if it w

e a scene from a bad movie. They saw scars and imagined a life of poverty and hardship. They didn't see the love and the lessons that

d his hand away

good life," h

they were trying to create. Richard and Catherine exchanged a q

quickly. "But you belong with us. In your real home. We

expensive clothes and their carefully constructed expressions of gr

o, was curious. He wanted to see them. He wanted to understand the people wh

ut a slo

once. "

r offer was a test. A test he was giving th