"Leo," Arthur said, his voice gravelly but warm. "Grab your coat. We have work to do."
It changed on Christmas Eve. A heavy snow began to fall, turning the street into a blurred, white kingdom. Leo stood by the frosted window, his shoulders slumped. "Does Santa know where I am?" he whispered. "I'm not at my house." A Grandpa For Christmas
On Christmas morning, the greatest gift under the tree wasn't wrapped in paper. It was the sight of Leo asleep on the sofa, clutching a wooden train Arthur had carved years ago for a son who had long since grown up. "Leo," Arthur said, his voice gravelly but warm