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

“I just didn’t want him to die,” he muttered.

They took our information, asked a few more questions, then left. Red tail lights disappeared into the dark.

Back inside, my hands didn’t stop shaking until I wrapped them around a mug of tea.

Jax sat at the kitchen table, hunched over his hot chocolate.

“You okay?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“I keep hearing him,” he said.

“That little cry.”

“You did everything right,” I said. “You found him. You called.

You stayed. You kept him warm.”

“I didn’t think,” he said. “I just… heard him and my feet moved.”

“That’s usually what heroes say,” I said.

He rolled his eyes.

“Please don’t tell people your son is a ‘hero,’ Mom,” he said.

“I still have to go to school.”

We went to bed late.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, thinking about that tiny baby with blue lips and shaking shoulders.

Was he okay? Did he have anyone?

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