SERAPHINA "SERA" MORTEZ'S POINT OF VIEW
"Mommy, who was that woman?"
Leo's voice cuts through the tricycle's rattle as we climb in, his small body pressed close to mine. Rio's head lolls against my chest, already asleep-he burned through every last drop of energy chasing kids at the playground, while his brother runs on a different kind of fire entirely. Leo's always been the spark; Rio, the quiet at its center.
"I don't know her, baby, must have confused me with someone else." I smile, ruffling his dark hair, and the words feel worn smooth by use. Then, almost without thinking: "Hey... would you be okay if we found a new place to live?"
