"Math is stupid," I agreed. "Show me what's left."
He tugged me to the tiny kitchen table...card table, really, one leg wobbly. His notebook was open, pencil marks heavy where he'd pressed too hard. Fractions. He hated fractions.
I sat next to him. "Okay. Walk me through it."
He sighed, dramatic. "One-half plus one-third. Mrs. Carter says find the common denominator."
"Right. What's the lowest common denominator for two and three?"
"Six."
"Good. So one-half is three-sixths. One-third is two-sixths. Three plus two?"
"Five."
"Five-sixths. See? You got it."
He stared at the paper like it had personally offended him. "Why can't numbers just stay the same?"
"Because then life would be boring."
He snorted. "Life is already boring."
I ruffled his hair. "Not with you in it."
He ducked away, but he was smiling. Small. Secret.
We finished the last three problems. He yawned halfway through the third. I closed the notebook.
"Bedtime, kid."
"But the trains...."
"Trains tomorrow. Promise."
He dragged his feet to the bedroom, our bedroom, really. One bed, one mattress on the floor for me when he needed space. I helped him brush his teeth, tucked him under the covers, turned on the little star projector that threw constellations across the ceiling. He watched them spin slow.
"Hadley?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you going somewhere tomorrow?"
I hesitated. "Maybe. With Zariah. Just for a little while."
He frowned. "Concert?"
"How'd you know?"
"Zariah texted me. Said you said yes."
I laughed under my breath. "She's sneaky."
"Don't go."
My chest tightened. "I'll be back before you wake up. Mara's coming to stay with you."
He pulled the blanket higher. "I don't like when you're gone."
