« You would have started a war. »
« I already did. »
« I know. »
« And more children would have died. »
The words echoed between them.
For the first time since finding his son, Alessandro wasn’t thinking about reunion.
He was thinking about guilt.
If Elena was telling the truth…
…she hadn’t stolen Mateo from him.
She had run because she believed it was the only way to keep their son alive.
The front door opened again.
Emma stepped onto the porch carrying two mugs of hot chocolate.
She smiled nervously.
« My mama said everybody feels better with something warm. »
The little girl handed one mug to Alessandro.
Another to Elena.
Neither of them spoke.
Emma looked from one face to the other.
Then, in the innocent way only children can, she asked,
« If you’re both crying… »
« …doesn’t that mean you’re both telling the truth? »
Neither adult had an answer.
