The kid’s hand feels so small against Abe’s arm. So light. So desperate for Abe to be selfish. To be like his goddamn, awful grandmother. But what’s the point of surviving if he sacrifices his damned humanity to do it? “Hey,” Abe says, breaking free of the kid’s grip without difficulty and holding up his glass shard. “I can defend myself.” He gives the kid a pained grin. “Or didn’t you notice?”
