CHAPTER EIGHT: SETTLING THE SCORES

The moment he uttered the last sentence out loud, he willed it back. Damn! He should never have said that. With eyes popping out of their sockets, Ana was looking at him like he’d grown another head, her shock so apparent that her hand flew to her mouth in open dismay. He did not want her pity.

He stared fixedly at a spot behind her on the wall, flushing every emotion so as to draw a blank in his mind, the way he’d always done as a child, in an attempt to survive.

Like he’d done when he’d entered his mother’s shabby apartment, knowing that something had been wrong even before setting foot inside. At fourteen, he’d lacked enough maturity to understand the enormity of the situation, thinking that his parents had had a lover’s tiff, and his only concern had been that he didn’t want to lose his mother.

So, the weekend which had followed, Devin had stealthily visited her against his father’s wishes, to persuade her to come back home. Surely her love for them wouldn’t be so consequential