My 16-Year-Old Son Rescued a Newborn from the Cold – the Next Day a Cop Showed Up on Our Doorstep

All I need to dissuade people from talking about him is:

Because he is.

He holds doors open. Pets every dog.

Makes Lily laugh on FaceTime when she’s stressed. Hugs me in passing and pretends he didn’t.

But I still worry.

That the way people see him will become how he sees himself. That one mistake will stick harder because of the hair, the jacket, the look.

Last Friday night flipped all of that upside down.

It was stupidly cold.

The kind of cold that gets in the house no matter how high you crank the heat.

Lily had just gone back to campus. The house felt hollow.

Jax grabbed his headphones and shrugged on his jacket.

“Going for a walk,” he said.

“At night? It’s freezing,” I said.

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