GEORGE’S fingers tightened slightly around the towel at his waist.
“Wen… Wendy, you haven’t gone to bed yet?” he asked gently, carefully masking the tension that had risen in his chest.
She sat on the edge of his neatly made bed, hands folded in her lap, eyes lowered. The bedside lamp cast a soft glow on her face, and in that light he could see it clearly.
She had been crying.
He walked toward her slowly, each step deliberate.
“Come on,” he said softly, sitting beside her but leaving just enough space so she wouldn’t feel crowded. “You and the twins were laughing not long ago. I thought you would all fall asleep right there from exhaustion.”
There was no response.
Her silence unsettled him more than tears would have.
He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice.
“Honey, tell me
