I stay on my knees, panting as I reach up for the faucet nozzle. I turn the water to the coldest cold. It sprays down on the both of us, and within ten seconds, Lo sputters awake, spitting out water from his mouth like I’m drowning him. I turn the water to a warmer temperature, and he tries to right himself, lifting his torso off my lap. He slips when he attempts to simply lean on the tiled wall. His eyes close and open sluggishly. He still hasn’t spoken a word.
