One officer helped Logan.
The other stayed with Andrew.
After the ambulance left, Benny brought both boys home.
“I knew your family,” he explained. “I thought it would be better to tell you in person.”
Then he looked at me apologetically.
“I’m sorry my phone call sounded alarming.”
I gave a shaky laugh.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack yourself.”
He smiled.
“That’s what my wife tells me about my telephone manners.”
Just then, Andrew woke up.
He climbed off the couch, shuffled toward Logan, and wrapped his arms around his older brother’s leg.
“Logan?”
“Hey, buddy.”
“You were helping the man?”
“Yeah.”
Andrew looked thoughtful.
“Is his heart okay now?”
Logan swallowed.
“He’s getting better.”
Andrew hugged him tighter.
I couldn’t stop watching them.
My seventeen-year-old son stood there in his old gray hoodie, holding his little brother close.
And suddenly, I saw something I’d been too frightened and exhausted to recognize.
