"I wish Mom was here to see this," I said, watching Amir play with his toys on the living room floor.
The afternoon sun streamed through my windows, catching in his fine silver-blonde hair as he batted at a soft, squeaky block with more enthusiasm than coordination. His little legs kicked out behind him, his face scrunched in concentration, and every few seconds he would look up at one of us as if to make sure we were still watching. Then he would go back to his game, satisfied.
My brother had extended his stay by two days. So had his husband. Ziya seemed to be very much interested in Novaterra. He had left earlier to go meet with Kastiel—political things, the kind of conversations that required closed doors and serious faces. Neither Elio nor I was interested in that. We had our own things to talk about. Things that mattered more.
