"Which girlfriend?"

After hanging up the phone, he dared not look back at the stands. Standing still, he shouted to Cathy, "Mom, I'm leaving first."

In a blink, he ran off, vanishing without a trace.

Cathy sighed deeply. If only the boy had half the steadiness of the Gibsons' Murray, his father might not look down on him.

Always acting recklessly, without ambition, content to drift aimlessly through life.

"Ah," Cathy exhaled, picking up the items Ronald Richardson had left behind.

The basketball gym was nearly empty now, save for a few couples lingering, whispering sweet nothings, heads close together in intimate conversation.

Cathy watched these young lovers, feeling a pang of nostalgia for youth.

She sat down, pulling out her phone to browse a photo in her gallery. It was a group picture of two couples. On the left, the woman's thick brows and dense lashes