And then they finally announce the winner. It’s James. I distantly hear Aunt Nicole’s whoop and Uncle Brian’s clapping. I definitely hear Mom’s snort as she gets up. My eyes blur with tears as I clap my hand over my mouth to cover my gasp. He walks onstage, the biggest smile I’ve ever seen from him on his face, and accepts the trophy with a handshake. He looks perfect. Handsome and confident and every bit the prodigal son the football world is expecting. When the clapping quiets, he just stares down at the trophy for a long moment before clearing his throat. “I don’t know where to begin,” he
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