Alexander's POV
“Andre, Andre!” I pulled him back a little and looked at him with a frown, horrified by what I had just heard. “How could you even think something like that? Come on, Mom has been late before. Don’t think those things, please.”
Andre didn’t have tears in his eyes, but he was about to cry. I could feel it. The sensation was like a tingling anticipation vibrating across the skin of my arms. The anguish was like a hollow pit at the bottom of my stomach. The apprehension felt like my trachea was tied in a knot. The lemon scent from the sheets faded in the presence of another, stronger essence—the smell of unease.
“But—”
“No ‘but.’” I cut him off before he could continue. I knew perfectly well what had him like this, and my only wish was for him to stop being afraid. “I’ve a
