17 I watched as Mya slept on an air mattress. Her blonde curls tumbled around her small face. She looked peaceful even though I knew she wasn’t. After David and Remy left, it took three mini bottles of wine before she finally stopped crying and passed out. She was a welcome distraction. Thinking about her problems allowed me to forget my own. It had taken five more minutes of arguing before David realized his normally docile wife wasn’t giving up the fight. Good for her. I wrapped a blanket around myself and settled onto my own air mattress, wishing the copious amount of wine I’d guzzled down would have the same effect on me as it had on Mya. An excavator and a bomb. He obviously has some skills. When will he attack again? “Do you think we should paint our faces black?” Mya asked th

