Maybe my silent crying confused Andre, because I no longer knew whether I was the one hugging him, or whether the child was comforting me. But I let myself go, while my injured arm held Andre against my chest until the lacerations began to sting and ache under the bandages; and I slowly stretched my healthy arm toward Sasha to touch her little head. The baby sighed in her sleep and moved her lips, chewing her own saliva.
Why did I feel so damn broken? Broken in my head, in my heart, in my soul. I couldn’t look at them without thinking that—
This wasn’t even my fight!
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that my bedroom door was half open and it didn’t take much to recognize Alexander, leaning against the frame nervously. I turned my head and faced his gaze, knowing I would find a stormy,
