PAST
Jack woke up stiff and cold as the sun cast a bright stream of light through the windshield of the van. He could hear the familiar sound of a garbage truck in the distance and the crunch of frozen snow under tires. Sleeping on the hard van floor made it difficult to sit up without pain, especially on his side. The cold air caused his lips to become dry and cracked. He was miserable but still alive.
The events of the night before ran through his mind like an old projector reel as if he was watching it happen from the outside. He was not the kid with the drunk Father that beat him. He was not the kid who had nothing. And yet, that was his reality. He would never be going back home.
Cold air rushed in as the van door was pulled open.
“Oh, Jesus!” Wade screamed when he saw Jack. “You
