I walked slowly across the turf toward him, my shoes making soft squelch sounds in the damp grass.
“Penny for your thoughts, Captain,” I said gently, stopping a few feet away.
Ethan looked up, a tired, radiant smile breaking through the dirt smudges on his face. He held the ball out toward me. “Look at it, Mom. Dad always said a good match ball tells a story by the time the final whistle blows.”
