Sixteen Winters of Silence

November 17, 2023. This was the eleventh night my son and I had spent sleeping under the bypass.

Chicago’s winter had arrived with a cruel, jagged edge. The wind whipped off the lake and tunneled through the concrete underpass like a serrated knife, searching for gaps in our layers. I pulled the heavy, grease-stained wool coat tighter around Jamie. He was eight years old and sleeping with the heavy, rhythmic breathing of a child who still believed his father could fix anything.