Chapter 16
A year later, Micah won another boxing tournament.
This time nobody whispered about what it meant for succession.
Nobody called it leadership training.
Nobody placed Silas behind him in photographs.
It was just boxing.
I sat beside Elena.
Nora waved a handmade sign that spelled MICAH wrong.
He pretended not to notice.
After the match, he came over sweating and grinning.
“Uncle.”
“You dropped your left twice.”
He stared.
“I won.”
“Still dropped it.”
Elena hit my arm.
Nora shouted:
“MIKAH WIN!”
Micah looked at the sign.
“You spelled my name wrong.”
Nora frowned.
“No.”
He laughed.
Ordinary.
That word had become precious.
Later Micah told me Coach Reynolds offered him a serious training program.
“Do it.”
“You didn’t ask if it helps Rossi.”
“No.”
He stared.
Then smiled.
Progress.
I had spent decades evaluating everything by usefulness.
Route.
Alliance.
Reputation.
Talent.
Children notice when love sounds like investment.
May you like
I was learning another language late.
Better late than never.
