Eve
I watched them load up Elliot's belongings as he sat perched on my hip. He refused to let me out of his sight since he woke up. I fed him, and he fed me—the best he could.
My eyes traced the new items that had been brought for him by Hades when it had been decided that he would stay with me. Too bad new items didn't mean new beginnings.
Too bad toys couldn't erase trauma.
Too bad a brand-new sweater couldn't warm a child's soul where it had already gone cold from fear.
The duffel was filled with carefully folded clothes, books he didn't read, puzzles with missing pieces—just like him. Just like me.
Elliot's small fingers clutched the fabric of my top tighter, as if sensing the direction of my thoughts.
"It's just for a while," I whispered, brushing my lips over his temple. "No one's taking you anywhere."
He didn't respond with words. He just nodded—tiny, solemn—his face half-hidden against my neck.
There was no tantrum. No crying. That was the part that broke me.
