so tightly it left a red half-moon in his palm. He cried until he hiccupped. Then he cried some more.
When Mark came home and saw our son, he stopped so abruptly his keys slipped out of his hand. He crossed the room, knelt on the rug, and looked at Leo’s head the way a person looks at damage after a storm. Very gently, he ran his fingers over the hacked-off continue reading …
