Mia’s head slowly rested against my shoulder.
Exhaustion finally pulling her under.
The poor thing couldn’t have weighed more than forty pounds.
My throat tightened.
Someone had murdered her mother.
Probably right in front of her.
Monsters.
Absolute monsters.
I looked toward Hersh again.
He was already staring at me.
Always.
His expression shifted the second he saw the tears gathering in my eyes.
And before I knew it?—
he crossed the room.
Straight to me.
The others kept talking quietly behind him, but my entire world narrowed to Hersh kneeling in front of the couch.
His large hand slid carefully against Mia’s back first.
Protective.
Gentle.
Then his eyes lifted to mine.
“You okay?”
No.
Not even close.
But the way he asked?—
like he genuinely cared about the answer?—
nearly unraveled me.
I nodded anyway.
Because if I opened my mouth right now, I’d cry.
His thumb brushed softly beneath one of my eyes.
Catching a tear before it fell.
