"Okay. Love you."
"Love you too."
I hang up and stand there for a moment, phone pressed against my chest.
Then I head for Bruno's room.
I rehearse what I'm going to say in my head. Direct. Simple. No accusations until I know the facts.
Bruno, I need to ask you about my father.
Bruno, where is my father right now?
Bruno, is my father gambling again?
I reach his door. It's half-closed, not fully shut. Light spills through the gap.
I push the door open a few inches more.
The sight in front of me stops me cold.
Bruno sits in his wheelchair by the window. His face is turned down, focused on something in his lap.
Lily.
Kristen's daughter.
She's curled up on Bruno's lap like a cat, her head resting against his chest. Her eyes are closed. Her breathing is slow and even.
She's asleep.
And Bruno is stroking her hair.
His hand moves in slow, careful motions. Gentle. Tender. Like he's afraid of waking her. Like she's something precious that might break if he's not careful.
His face...
I've never seen his face look like this.
The hard lines are gone. The permanent scowl has softened into something almost peaceful. His eyes are half-closed, his lips slightly parted. He looks younger. Softer. Human.
He looks like a different person entirely.
I stand frozen in the doorway, unable to move. Unable to look away.
Bruno's hand stills on Lily's hair.
He looks up.
Our eyes meet.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. Neither of us speaks.
I watch something flicker across his face. Surprise. Then something else. Something that looks almost like shame.
Like I've caught him doing something he didn't want anyone to see.
Being gentle. Being kind. Being human.
