Anyta
The words stabilized me more than I'd ever have thought. Clay had never used the word 'swear' on me before like that. It was like armor.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. The shame stayed, awkward and vile. But remembering Teddy—my boy—mollified the shame. He was out there somewhere, maybe in the clenched fists of men who had never heard his laughter. I saw him curled up sleeping, the harsh point of his chin as mine. I breathed and felt a new small resolve.
"Promise me one thing," I said. "If anything—if there's a possibility they can harm him because of what I do… you stop me. You make me think about something else. Don't let me go so far I can't turn back."
Clay's face relaxed. He sat down again and took my hands in his. His palms were calloused from working, but they w
