They were delivering winter coats and sports equipment for children who couldn’t afford them.

Derek had spent much of the previous year rebuilding his life.

Some sponsors never returned.

Several old friends disappeared.

His relationship with Graham remained difficult.

And he had learned that admitting wrongdoing was only the first part of changing.

The harder part was continuing to behave differently after people stopped watching.

That afternoon, Derek carried a large cardboard box into the charity storage room.

He found Arthur sitting on a stool, repairing a broken wooden toy.

The old man looked up.

“Back again?”

Derek smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

Arthur glanced toward the box.

“More presents?”

“Basketballs. Soccer balls. A few pairs of gloves.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“Fighting gloves?”

Derek laughed.

“No, sir. Winter gloves.”

“Good.”

Derek set down the box.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Derek reached into his jacket and removed something small.

An old photograph.

He handed it to Arthur.

It showed a young man in a white martial arts uniform standing on a championship podium.

Arthur Bell.

Much younger.

Much stronger.

A gold medal around his neck.

Derek had found it in an old sports archive.

“I wanted you to have this.”

Arthur studied the photograph.

Then smiled faintly.

“I’ve got plenty of those at home.”

“I know.”

Derek hesitated.

“But I wanted to tell you something.”

Arthur waited.

Derek took a breath.

“When I saw this picture last year, I thought the important thing was that you could’ve beaten me even worse.”

He looked down.

“Now I understand that wasn’t the important thing.”

Arthur placed the photograph on the table.

“What was?”

Derek looked directly at him.

“That you chose not to.”

Arthur remained quiet for several seconds.

Then he nodded.

“That’s a much better lesson.”

Outside, children were laughing near the Christmas display.

Arthur slowly rose from the stool.

His knee complained.

He adjusted the red velvet coat hanging beside him.

“Help me with this, would you?”

Derek stepped forward and held the coat open.

The former champion slipped his arms into the sleeves.

Then he reached for the red hat.