The sunlight streaming in through my open window alerts me that it’s morning. The time, however, remains unknown.
I rub the sleep from my eyes, my foggy brain churning through the unbelievable events of last night. I cleaned up Jude as best I could and told him he could stay the night—on the couch, of course. After I grabbed him a pillow and blanket and said good night, he got comfortable and was out like a light. I’m surprised he didn’t pass out sooner, considering his injuries. But last night proved Jude is a survivor—another quality I like about him.
And that’s the problem; I like a lot of things about him. When did that happen?
His quest to better his son’s life is admirable. Regardless of his past, he refuses to give up. He refuses to dwell on what could have been because hindsight
