I rifled through the clothing, Dominic in the bedroom, keeping himself busy. I knew what he was doing, the clicks and clangs giving away the fact that he was putting together a gun and loading it. I didn't have to be a gun expert to know that. The fact he kept his distance right now both saddened me, and was exactly what I needed to get my head in order. Cyrus had tipped out a large box of old barbie dolls and robot figurines and was busying himself in the hallway, the sounds of a contented child filling my airspace. He wasn't oblivious. But he felt safe. For now.
Everything seemed so quiet. The eye before the storm, perhaps.
My son wasn't ignorant. Cyrus knew what was going on, maybe not the extent of Red's head injuries, but he'd seen me break down more than once over the last few hour
