The boy looked at the biker through tears.<\/p>\n
His breathing still shaky.<\/p>\n
His small hands clenched in his lap.<\/p>\n
For a moment\u2014<\/p>\n
he said nothing.<\/p>\n
Just stared at the silver locket in the biker\u2019s trembling hand.<\/p>\n
Then softly\u2014<\/p>\n
almost like he was afraid to say it wrong\u2014<\/p>\n
he answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said your name was Jace.\u201d<\/p>\n
The biker went completely still.<\/p>\n
The noise of the diner seemed to vanish around him.<\/p>\n
Plates still clattered.<\/p>\n
People still talked.<\/p>\n
But none of it reached him.<\/p>\n
Jace looked down at the photo inside the locket again.<\/p>\n
The woman smiling back at him.<\/p>\n
Her hair blowing in the wind.<\/p>\n
The same smile he had spent years trying to forget\u2014<\/p>\n
and never could.<\/p>\n
His throat tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s your mama\u2019s name?\u201d he asked, though part of him already knew.<\/p>\n
The boy wiped his eyes with his sleeve.<\/p>\n
\u201cLena.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jace shut his eyes for a second.<\/p>\n
Pain hit him so hard he had to grip the edge of the booth.<\/p>\n
When he opened them again\u2014<\/p>\n
they were full of tears.<\/p>\n
The boy noticed.<\/p>\n
His crying slowed.<\/p>\n
Confusion replacing fear.<\/p>\n
Jace carefully set the burger back in front of him.<\/p>\n
Not pushing it away this time.<\/p>\n
Pushing it closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cEat,\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n
The boy hesitated.<\/p>\n
Then unwrapped it with shaking fingers.<\/p>\n
Took a bite.<\/p>\n
Still watching him.<\/p>\n
Still unsure.<\/p>\n
Jace sat down across from him slowly.<\/p>\n
Like his legs no longer trusted him.<\/p>\n
He held the locket in both hands.<\/p>\n
Carefully.<\/p>\n
Reverently.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen did you last see your mother?\u201d<\/p>\n
The boy swallowed.<\/p>\n
Trying to answer without crying again.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was sick.\u201d<\/p>\n
A pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cBefore she left, she put the locket around my neck and told me to find the man in the eagle ring.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jace looked down at his own hand.<\/p>\n
At the silver ring he had worn for fifteen years.<\/p>\n
The one Lena used to tease him about.<\/p>\n
The one he never took off.<\/p>\n
The boy\u2019s lip trembled.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said if I found you\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026I wouldn\u2019t be alone anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
That broke him.<\/p>\n
Jace covered his mouth for a moment.<\/p>\n
A rough breath leaving his chest.<\/p>\n
Then he reached across the table.<\/p>\n
Not suddenly.<\/p>\n
Not forcefully.<\/p>\n
Just enough to let the boy choose.<\/p>\n
The child stared at his hand.<\/p>\n
Then slowly placed his own small hand into it.<\/p>\n
Jace held on gently.<\/p>\n
Tears rolling down his face now.<\/p>\n
He looked at the boy.<\/p>\n
Really looked at him.<\/p>\n
Lena\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n
Lena\u2019s quiet sadness.<\/p>\n
Lena\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n
And in a voice so broken it barely sounded like him, he whispered\u2014<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not alone anymore, kid\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026because I\u2019m the man your mother never stopped loving.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The boy looked at the biker through tears. His breathing still shaky. His small hands clenched in his lap. For a moment\u2014 he said nothing. Just stared at the silver locket in the biker\u2019s trembling hand. Then softly\u2014 almost like he was afraid to say it wrong\u2014 he answered. \u201cShe said your name was Jace.\u201d […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":7204,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7203","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-trending-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7203","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7203"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7203\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/7204"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7203"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7203"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7203"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}