Theodore's Move
A highway intersection in Marin lay bathed in the glow of dim streetlights. Theodore paced back and forth, His face was tense, his brow deeply furrowed.
Finally, a black, unlicensed van emerged from the shadows. Its headlights cut through the darkness, and Theodore's pacing ceased abruptly.
"Chairman, they're here," one of his men whispered, leaning in close to him.
Theodore nodded curtly, his eyes locking onto the approaching vehicle. The van rolled to a stop in front of him.
The door creaked open, and a young man stepped out—his hair disheveled, his clothes rumpled, his face gaunt. Yet, there was no mistaking him: it was Ken, Theodore's eldest son.
Theodore's hardened expression softened instantly. His eyes flicked over Ken's face, taking in the exhaustion, the strain, and the subtle tremor in his movements.
Ken dropped to his knees as soon as he saw his father. His voice broke as he cried out, "Dad!"