Chapter 5
Jax accepted the blanket from Sarah and draped it gently around Leo’s shoulders. The boy offered a small, polite nod of thanks before sipping the warm water. Sarah lingered for a moment, her eyes lingering on the faded photograph resting on the low stone wall between them.
"If you need a quiet place to talk," Sarah offered quietly, "the manager's office on the lower level is empty tonight. Nobody will bother you down there."
"I appreciate that," Jax said, standing up to his full height. He looked down at Leo, who clutched the blanket tightly around himself. "Let's go down, kid. We have a lot to talk about."
They descended the narrow, carpeted service stairs away from the glittering dining room and the wealthy patrons who remained entirely oblivious to the life-altering conversation happening beneath their feet. The manager's office was small, neat, and smelled faintly of old paper and wood polish. Jax locked the door behind them, ensuring complete privacy, before sitting down in the leather desk chair. Leo sat on the edge of a small sofa opposite him, still holding the photograph like a precious talisman.
"Tell me about your mom's last months, Leo," Jax asked gently, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Did she have help? Who was taking care of you after she got too weak to work?"
"Just the neighbors in our old apartment building," Leo explained, his voice even. "Mrs. Gable downstairs brought us soup sometimes, and Mr. Henderson let me help him sweep the garage so he could give me a few dollars for bread. But mostly, Mom took care of herself until she couldn't get out of bed anymore."
Hearing this, Jax felt physically sick. The men he used to run with, the illegal jobs he used to take for fast cash—it all seemed utterly meaningless compared to the quiet, desperate struggle Clara had endured alone while raising his child.
"Why didn't she reach out to me?" Jax asked, not out of anger, but out of a deep, aching sorrow. "She knew where to find me, or at least she knew people who knew."
"She said pride is a heavy cage, Jax," Leo quoted, using the man's first name with the casual familiarity of someone who had heard stories about him for years. "She said you had to find your own way out of your darkness before you could help anyone else out of theirs. But she also told me that people can change, and that time doesn't erase love."
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Jax stared at the boy in stunned silence. The wisdom in those words belonged to a woman who had loved him far more than he ever deserved. He reached out and touched the edge of the old photograph resting on the table. In the picture, taken twenty-four years ago, he was smiling—a genuine, unburdened smile he hadn't felt in decades.
"She was right," Jax whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "She was always right about everything."
