Anna and Little pointedly did not look at each other.
“I know that I can’t expect these wounds to heal right now,” Sira continued, “but I thought it was worth it to put it out there, where it can all air out.” She looked at the other two, who were facing away, one toward the window, one looking at the far wall, toward the door.
Sira was surprised and saddened by the silence; her girls had always been vocal. Though they all spoke a mix of English and Italian to each other, heated moments brought out their arterial languages. When Sira became angry, she inadvertently slid into an even quieter Italian, syllables peaked in ice. Little simmered into English, her words biting, and to her consternation, she had difficulty controlling the level of her voice. Anna also tended to raise her voice,
