"You look half dead," she said, dropping down onto the step beside him.

  Marty let out a heavy breath. "Feel worse. At least three-quarters."

  Ingrid studied him, her expression soft but thoughtful. Her smile tugged at the corners of her mouth but didn’t stay long.

  "So? Are you learning anything?" she asked, pushing past her concern.

  Marty glanced at her before turning his gaze back to the mountains. "Pain. And that I’m not very good at being Thor."

  “Pain can be an effective teacher."

  “That’s what Thialfi says.”

  She sat quietly for a moment, taking in the rough settlement around them—the cabins and the misty morning air that had become like home, in a way she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. It was almost like being back in Norway, and it unearthed something inside her—something older, stronger. Everything here felt familiar. After Aksel died, after fleeing everything she knew, it was like she was coming home.

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  "I like this place," she admitted, sounding lighter than Marty had ever heard. "I feel more me here than I have since I left the farm. This… this place feels like it’s in my bones, like we belong here."

  "Yeah," he muttered. "I guess so."

  Ingrid’s fingers grazed the edge of her sweater, her mind briefly wandering to the past, but she caught herself. Ole-Martin may be Thor now, but he would always be her son.

  "I just…" She took a breath, her voice a little softer now. "I need to apologize. I guess I never realized how hard it would be for you to live in hiding. You heard me tell stories of how it was and I understand why you wondered why we had to live the way we did. Me working long hours, no money, even less hope.”

  “It’s okay Mom,” Marty could feel her sorrow, “I should never have pushed so hard.”

  Ingrid met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. "You are right, you should treat your Mama better. So listen to me now. I know you are Thor the thirty-something. But never forget that you are Ole-Martin Bergstrom, son of Aksel and Ingrid. The way I raised you is still important. Your values, your character, your…. You! You needn’t change just because you are Thor now. Thor or no Thor, you are my son."

  Marty swallowed, her words sinking into him, but he couldn’t shake the storm brewing within him—or the one building outside. The air pressure mirrored the weight that Marty felt inside.

  Son of Aksel and Ingrid.

  Do you think Ingrid is right?