had shaken our family. Seeing his innocent face was a comfort and a torment all at once. I sat on the floor with him
ut he wasn' t looking for me, not really. He walked
" he asked, hi
said, not looking up f
doting fatherhood. He laughed with Leo, praised his drawings, promised to buy him a pony. He had never on
to the playroom, this time wi
key to the famil
ed. "
dmother brought from Europe. It was part of your weddi
of jewelry. It was a symbol of my position as the matriarch-in-waiting, the
d, my voice q
did you
l not give my things
unroom. Leo had tripped and scraped his knee. It was
scooping him up. He shot a venomous glare at me. "This is your fault!
he humiliation-it all receded, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. This ma
e is your son, Richard," I said, my voice fla
and helped him place another block on his
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