Over the weekend, my mother called and told me that Mrs. Ruelle had come over for a visit.
"She brought a whole pile of things. As soon as she came in, she apologized. She said they had failed to raise Zayven properly and asked your father and me not to take it to heart," my mother said calmly over the phone.
"Your father made her some tea and told her that we'd been neighbors for years. The children's problems were theirs to deal with, and the adults wouldn't get involved. She stayed for over an hour. When she left, her eyes were red."
"What about Zayven?"
"He didn't come. His mother said he was too ashamed to face us." My mother paused for a moment. "Lena, let me ask you something. Do you still have feelings for him?"
I leaned against the balcony railing and watched people coming a
