Wyatt raced through Chicago’s bustling streets, his SUV weaving past honking cabs in spring rain toward John H. Stroger Jr. Hospital. His hands gripped the wheel, knuckles white, as he replayed Lorraine’s story in his head. The DNA test had confirmed she was his mom, but now she was fighting for her life. The nurse’s words echoed: “Hit by a car near a CTA stop. Bad shape.” Wyatt prayed he’d make it in time.
At the hospital, Nurse Carla pointed him to a ward buzzing with overworked staff.
— “She’s down there,” she said, barely looking up. “No tuberculosis, but the crash broke her ribs and leg. Surgery helped, but without pricey meds, she won’t last long.”
Wyatt’s heart sank.
— “Take me to her. Now.”
He stepped into the room and saw her—Lorraine, his mom, lying frail on a stiff hospital bed. Her face was pale, bruised, but those eyes, even through pain, sparked with the warmth he remembered from childhood. He gently touched her hand, his voice cracking.
— “Mom, it’s me. Wyatt.”
Carla gasped, muttering,
— “This guy’s mom?”
Lorraine’s eyes fluttered open, confused.
— “Who… who are you?” she whispered, her voice dry as sandpaper.
— “I’m your son,” Wyatt said, tears welling. “We met at my restaurant. The Windy Fork. I got the DNA test. It’s you, Mom.”
Lorraine’s brow furrowed, sweat beading on her forehead.
— “My Wyatt? No… can’t be.”
She tried to sit up, wincing, then collapsed back. Her trembling hand reached for his. Slowly, recognition dawned.
— “You look like Ethan,” she murmured. “My boy.”
Wyatt pulled out the DNA results, reading them aloud, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat. Lorraine’s eyes widened, tears spilling.
— “I thought I’d lost you forever,” she sobbed.
— “I looked for you, Wyatt. After prison, I tried, but they hid you.”
Wyatt squeezed her hand.
— “I know, Mom. I know everything now.”
— “That bread saying,” Lorraine said, a weak smile breaking through. “You remembered it, didn’t you? From when I’d patch you up after you fell off your bike in Garfield Park.”
Wyatt nodded, choking back a sob.
— “I never forgot you. I thought you were gone, but you’re here.”
— “I’m too far gone,” she whispered.
— “Not happening,” Wyatt said fiercely. “I found you, and I’m not losing you again. I’ll get you the best care. You’re coming home.”
Wyatt didn’t hesitate. He called Northwestern, Chicago’s top hospital, and arranged to transfer Lorraine. He paid for the best surgeons and meds, determined to give her a fighting chance. Weeks later, her condition stabilized. Wyatt brought Lily, Ethan Jr., and Olivia to meet her, planning a picnic by Lake Michigan. The family embraced Lorraine, welcoming her with open hearts. Ethan Jr. cracked jokes, Olivia shared stories of college, and Lily promised home-cooked Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. Lorraine, weak but smiling, soaked in the love she’d missed for decades. Wyatt watched, his heart full, knowing his mom was finally home.