He had planned to change, but time had slipped through his hands like water. So he chose the cleanest version he had—boots polished, shirt pressed as best as he could manage, hair combed back with quiet care. There was pride in the way he stood, even if exhaustion lingered beneath it.
He checked his phone again.
“Maybe traffic is slow today, sweetheart,” he said gently. “They might just be running late.”
Lila nodded, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She hesitated before speaking again, her voice small but steady.
“I heard something at school yesterday…”
Andrew looked down at her, already knowing he might not want to hear the rest.
“One of the moms looked at my invitation and made a face,” she whispered. “She said something about… garbage trucks.”
The words settled heavily between them.
Andrew worked harder than most people would ever see. Early mornings collecting city waste. Long afternoons unloading shipments at a warehouse. Weekends fixing motorcycles in a friend’s garage just to earn a little more. Every dollar went toward tuition, books, and giving his daughter a chance at something better.
