Liam passed out not long after dinner, curled up like a little burrito on the couch with his dinosaur plushie and cookie crumbs still on his shirt. He was smiling in his sleep. That kind of deep, content sleep only kids seem to pull off.
Damon carried him upstairs and came back down a few minutes later, quiet, broody, and with that lingering look on his face again. The same one he always gave me when he wasn’t sure what to say—or wasn’t sure if he should say it at all.
I sat at the dining table, pretending to scroll through my phone, though really, I was still recovering from the Vivian Experience™.
I heard him exhale.
Here we go.
“I’m sorry about my mom,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck like it physically hurt him to apologize.
I looked up, grinning. “You mean the part where s
