The program director came out from the back office. She was younger than me. She asked if I was sure I wanted to go in right then. “Sometimes they need to make the first move,” she said. “But you are already here so maybe just sit with him a minute.”

I followed the nurse down the hall. Daniel was at a table with a few other men. He looked thinner. His hair had gray in it now. He looked up when we stopped near him.

The nurse said my name. Daniel stared at me and his mouth opened a little. Nobody said anything for a second. I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. He kept looking at the table after that.

I wanted to tell him I was sorry. I wanted to ask if he had been cold all those winters. The words stayed in my throat. He did not ask me to leave but he did not reach for my hand either.

I am still sitting there when the nurse checks on us again. Daniel has not said a word to me yet. I keep waiting for him to look up.

The chair felt hard under me and my scrubs still smelled like the hospital soap from my shift. Daniel kept his eyes on the scratched tabletop. His fingers tapped once then stopped like he was trying not to move at all.

The nurse came back over after a minute. She pulled out the chair next to me and sat down slow. “He talks about you in group every single time,” she said. “Mentions how you worked nights and still made sure he had lunch money in the morning. Says he used to wait up just to hear your car pull in.”

I swallowed and the sound felt loud in my own ears. Daniel shifted but did not look up.

The director had already told me sometimes they need to make the first move but here I was anyway and none of it felt like enough.

“He told the circle about the purse,” the nurse said quieter. “Said he hated himself for taking from you but the need got bigger than anything else. He still calls you Mom when he talks.”

My throat went tight. I could smell the lemon cleaner on the table and the coffee someone had left in a paper cup across from us. Daniel’s hair looked thinner at the temples than I remembered. Twelve years does that I guess.

He lifted his head just enough to glance at my hands on the table. “You didn’t have to come,” he said. His voice cracked on the last word.

“I got the call,” I said. That was all I could get out.