crying
Julia cries all evening, while her father sweeps and mops and dusts and cleans the toilets.
When George sees Mack, he runs to him. I can only hear a few of his words. Vet. Should have. Wrong.
Mack shrugs. His shoulders droop. He leaves without a word.
When George wipes the fingerprints off my glass, his cheeks are wet. He doesn’t meet my eyes.