Daddy?
What?
Would you be mad if I told you something?
Of course not.
Are you sure?
Sure.
Promise?
Promise.
He bit his lower lip.
I adjusted his blanket, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
Do you love me? he signed.
You know I do, you little s**t.
He grinned.
You’d love me no matter what I told you?
Of course. What do you want to tell me?
Nothing.
Nothing?
He shrugged, but I could see there was a secret hiding behind his eyes, something trying to get out. If I went after it, it would retreat like a turtle pulling its head inside its shell, so I feigned disinterest. I was not, however, disinterested. Not in the slightest.
Is Papa mad at you?
Probably, I signed.
Are you fighting?
No.
He looked like he was mad.
He probably was.
But you’re not fighting?
Maybe a
