Zander
I knew I was in trouble the second the hospital elevator opened and I heard my father before I saw him.
“Πού είναι ο γιος μου;” (Where is my son?)
His voice carried down the hallway loudly enough that two nurses looked up from their station. A security guard stepped aside, and Papa came around the corner with Mama several steps behind him, trying unsuccessfully to catch his arm. He wasn’t wearing his usual apron from the café, but judging by the flour smeared across one side of his black shirt, someone had dragged him away from work before he’d had time to clean himself up.
His eyes found me.
I considered leaving.
Not seriously.
Mostly.
“Papa.”
“Μη μου λες ‘Papa!’” (Don’t you ‘Papa’ me!)
Gina looked at me from beside Sarah’s hospital bed.
Despite everything that had happe
