Just landed. Hope you and Kenzo are sleeping well. Love you guys.
A poison lullaby.
He was building the alibi while the house burned. He was on the other end of the country making sure his timeline was clean, while men with a key walked through our front door.
My stomach rolled. I turned my head and vomited into the gutter, sharp and sour, the kind of sickness that comes from your body realizing the world is no longer safe.
Kenzo’s hands patted my back, uncertain. He was trying to comfort me like I was the child.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and pulled him into me, holding him tight enough to feel his heartbeat.
“No,” I said hoarsely. “No, baby. You saved us.”
He didn’t answer. He just clung to me, shaking.
Across the street, the fire chief barked orders. Hoses unfurled with a slap against pavement. Water hit the flames with a violent hiss, steam rising in thick waves. The night was full of noise, but the world inside me had gone eerily quiet.
I looked down at Kenzo’s face, wet with tears and shining under the faint streetlight.
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