It fit.
For a moment, he stood there, feeling the weight of the fabric around his shoulders.
Warm.
Real warmth.
He checked the tag.
$3.00
Ethan walked to the counter.
Linda looked at the jacket and hesitated.
“You sure you want that one?” she asked.
Ethan glanced down at it.
“Why?”
Linda shrugged slightly.
“That jacket’s been here for years. Nobody ever bought it.”
Ethan gave a small smile.
“Well… guess it was waiting for me.”
He pulled three crumpled dollars from his pocket and placed them on the counter.
Linda handed him the receipt.
“Stay warm out there,” she said softly.
Ethan nodded.
Then he stepped back into the cold night.
The wind howled through the empty street as Ethan pulled the jacket tighter around him.
Snowflakes drifted lazily under the streetlights.
For the first time all evening, he didn’t feel the cold biting through his clothes.
He slipped his hands into the pockets.
His right hand felt something.
Paper.
His brow furrowed.
He pulled out a thick envelope.
The paper was slightly yellowed with age.
Written on the front in careful handwriting were four words:
For My Son’s College
Ethan stared at it.
His heart started beating faster.
He opened the envelope slowly.
Inside…
Stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
His breath caught.
He flipped through them quickly.
One thousand.
Two thousand.
Five thousand.
Ten thousand dollars.
Ethan looked around the empty street as if someone might suddenly appear to claim it.
But the sidewalk was silent.
Snow continued to fall.
His hands trembled slightly.
