It looked like it had been sitting outside for months, maybe longer.
“Jason,” I said carefully, crouching beside him, “that thing is really dirty. Let’s leave it here, okay?”
But Jason had already pulled the bear close to his chest.
His fingers tightened protectively around it.
“We can’t leave him,” he said quietly.
“Him?”
“The bear,” Jason replied. “He’s special.”
I recognized the look on his face instantly.
His breathing had changed. His eyes were shiny, as if he were trying very hard not to cry.
And when Jason tries not to cry, it breaks my heart every single time.
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