—Lena’s POV—
“Ok then, hopefully, the kid is still alive.” He says.
“Yeah, hopefully.” I say, but I don't say what's on my mind, who's is that the kid is probably dead.
We continue walking, and I can feel him watching me; I know he has questions, but he better come out and say it because I'm not going to help him.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked.
“It depends.” I tell him.
“On what?” He asked.
“Does it have to do with work?” I asked him.
“No, it doesn't.” He tells me.
“Then it's my personal life then; well, you can ask, but I make no promises to answer.” I tell him.
“It’s about your children, actually. Is their father in the picture?” He asked me.
I knew he was going to ask me this and I already prepared an answer for him. “Yes, he is. He didn't come with us becaus
