โDid you just hit my car?โ
The boy swallows hard.
โIโฆ Iโm sorryโฆโ
The words barely come out.
The man walks forward.
Measured steps across the grass.
No rush.
He bends slightly.
Picks up the ball.
Turns it in his hand.
Camera CLOSE-UPโ
faded writing on the surface.
Worn.
Old.
The man freezes.
Completely.
โโฆthis isnโt possibleโฆโ
The words slip out.
Quiet.
But heavy.
The boy takes a small step forward.
โThatโs my ballโฆโ
The man looks at him nowโ
really looks.
โWhere did you get it?โ
โMy mom gave it to meโฆโ
Silence tightens again.
The air shifts.
Music rising underneathโslow, dark.
The manโs grip tightens slightly on the ball.
โWhatโs your motherโs name?โ
The boy looks up.
Honest.
Unaware of what heโs about to break open.
โShe saidโฆ if someone recognizes itโฆโ
A small pause.
The wind moves the grass around them.
The boyโs voice softens.
โโฆheโs my real father.โ
