“Eli.”
The whole section seemed to breathe around that name.
I stood and moved down before I could overthink it.
“Hi,” I said gently. “I’m Lana. Do you mind if I sit here for a moment?”
She looked exhausted and dazed, but she nodded.
Up close, I could see the kind of tiredness that doesn’t come from one bad day.
Her son leaned against her side, his sunglasses reflecting the stadium lights.
“I’m Paula,” she said.
I looked toward the boy.
“Eli, I’m right here with your mom.”
He turned his face toward my voice.
“Are they winning?” he asked.
That nearly undid me.
