You turned it off.
For once, their voices could not reach you.
At home, you carried Mateo into his room and took off his shoes. He woke just enough to whisper, “Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Are we bad?”
You sat beside him so quickly your knees hit the bed frame.
“No. Never.”
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“Then why did they say nobody wanted us?”
You closed your eyes.
Because cruelty always finds the softest place to press.
You stroked his hair.
“Because some people say ugly things when their hearts are ugly. That doesn’t make the words true.”
He thought about that.
“Julian was nice.”
“Yes.”
“Is he still marrying Aunt Izzy?”
“No.”
“Because of us?”
“No,” you said firmly. “Because of what she did.”
He nodded slowly.
Then he whispered, “I don’t want to go there again.”
You kissed his forehead.
“We won’t.”
That promise became the first brick in your new life.
