“I’m just saying, he’s seven,” Damian explained. “That doesn’t exactly make him the perfect role model.”
“He was cute,” Yanna pouted playfully.
“That’s how they get you, kids. They act cute, you start to feel for them, and all of a sudden, you have three, they’re eating all your food, and you’re buying them clothes and video games.” Damian slowed to a stop and pointed. “Let’s take this alley. It’s a shortcut. Only a couple more blocks and we’ll get there.”
“OK,” Yanna agreed.
“So, I know you can’t remember where you’re from,” Damian continued, “but can you remember anything at all? About you? About your friends? Family? Things you like?”
“Hmmm,” Yanna stared off, her brow furrowing. “Don’t remember a lot. But remember… anger. Then sadness. Then anger again. Remember am one hundred twe
