Sally Tracy adored her grandkids. She was so proud of the strong, young men they had become, and so comforted by their equally strong moral code and need to help anyone in need of it.
Each one shone in their own special way, each one had his own strengths, and together they made a fantastic team and a wonderful family.
But she couldn’t help but have an extra soft spot for Virgil.
She didn’t play favourites, or really, like any parent, tried her best not to, and she loved them all more than her own life. But he was the one who always stepped up to help her first, always the one who checked on her, stood by her, looked after her in those moments where she might be vulnerable. Sure, he didn’t like her cooking any more than his brothers, but he was always there. Just there. And that meant a great deal to Sally.
He was also very much like his mother, and she suspected that the pieces of the puzzle that had fit so well with his parents helped fit him to her in personality just that little bit more.
He was such a sweet gentle boy under all that muscle. One who would do anything for anyone who needed his help.