“Don’t you like cereal? Do you prefer oatmeal?” I asked, seeing that expression.
“No, this is fine. Thank you very much, Mrs. Johanna,” he replied, and began to eat what I had served him.
I took the bottle from the counter and sat down beside Andre. Sasha was already stretching out her hands eagerly, looking for the bottle, so I gave it to her. Just when I thought she would burst into tears because her father wasn’t nearby was when she seemed most content and calm: she grabbed the bottle eagerly and latched onto the n****e, completely happy. While she drank her milk, I watched Andre’s behavior for a moment and noticed how dejected he was, as if something weren’t right.
I leaned a little in his direction, but I couldn’t touch him because my hands were occupied with his sister. I really w
