The man—tall even sitting down, with gentle hands—tried for a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Our son was supposed to pick us up six hours ago. Said he’d be right back.”
Six hours. In this cold. On the edge of nowhere.
Sophia’s stomach dropped. “Do you have his number? I can call him.”
The man pulled out an old flip phone—screen cracked, completely dark. “Dropped it last week. Never got around to fixing it.”
The woman—Grace, she said her name was—managed a watery laugh. “We never memorized it. It was just… in the phone.”
Sophia looked at Eli, burning up against her, then at the empty road. She opened the Uber app before common sense could talk her out of it.
Acacia Ridge. New retirement community off Flower Road. Forty-two dollars. Her account had forty-seven.
She hit confirm.
Grace noticed Eli and her whole face softened. “Oh, sweet boy… how old?”
“Three months tomorrow.”
“He’s beautiful.” Grace’s voice cracked. “Your husband must be so proud.”
The silence that followed was heavier than the cold.
Sophia swallowed. “I’m a widow, ma’am.”
Grace’s hand flew to her mouth. “Lord, child, I’m sorry.”