I laugh. “Well, look at her. You’re feeding her too much.”
“She’s got a healthy appetite!”
“You mean you and Jo spoil her.”
She gives me a guilty look. “Maybe a little.”
Camila sighs. “It’s been good for Jo to have a distraction. Especially after…”
She trails off as though saying the words out loud will be too painful for me. She’s been treading on eggshells about Mama’s death.
I think she’s worried that something might trigger me belatedly. I can understand why she thinks that. For someone as emotive as Camila, expressing grief is natural. And healthy.
For me, it’s… completely the opposite.
Even when I feel it, it’s a dark hole deep inside of me. It’s not buried, just… controlled.
“You can say her name, you know,” I say. “I’m not going to start weeping.”
She gives me a curious l
