There are some walks you don’t want to take. This is Jason’s.
Mama smiles. “Lovely. Look at the water. Where are we?”
“Your new home. On the bay,” Jason says looking at his angry brother who’d later say: “It wasn’t my decision.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” she says. “And who are you, dear?”
Jason swallows hard. “Jason.”
She tries his name on. “A nice name.”
He remembers how her forefinger stabbed Mr. Springer’s chest. “Jason is a good boy.” Her fierceness echoed in every syllable, her blue eyes were fiery cold.
Her fingers clutch his and tremble. “I’m frightened.”