The man recognized the woman in the photo, directing him to a nearby group. Heart pounding, Eric spotted her—older, worn down, but unmistakably his mother. Approaching her table, he barely managed a whisper. “Eliza… I’m your son.”
She didn’t acknowledge him at first, brushing him off. But when he tried again, she smirked, dismissing his attempts. The group got up to leave, and in his confusion, he didn’t notice her slipping the last of his cash from his backpack as they hurried out, skipping the bill.
Soon, the police arrived, and Eric found himself in the back of a patrol car, alone, defeated, and unsure of what lay ahead. At the station, his heart skipped when he saw the Johnsons waiting for him, relief etched on their faces. Mrs. Johnson rushed to hug him, her voice trembling with worry as she held him close. Mr. Johnson gently asked why he’d run away, and Eric finally admitted his fears—that now, with Mila, they wouldn’t need him anymore.
With unwavering love, Mrs. Johnson reassured him. “You’re our son, Eric. That’s never going to change.” Mr. Johnson added with a smile, “This trip was for you, Eric. We wanted to tell you we’d like to make it official if you’ll have us.”
As he looked into their eyes, Eric realized that he’d already found his family—the one who never left, who stayed beside him through it all. And this time, with their love and commitment, he understood what family truly meant.
