“So the girls and I had a talk last night.” He flipped the page in his notebook to reveal a crayon rendering of three sad kids—both of the girls crying. Everything was dark, the sky gray and the grass brown. Eason leaned in close and threw his arm around Asher’s shoulders, the tips of his fingers grazing my arm. “What’s happening here?” he asked, the same concern filling my chest thick in his voice. “Well…” Asher blew out a hard breath. “This is a picture of me, Madison, and Luna now.” He turned the page. “And this is me, Madison, and Luna with a cat.” All three of them were smiling.
