Rael stopped walking and looked up at his father.
"Her face was… um… hard," he said. "Like when it's cold and you touch the ground and it hurts. Not squishy. Yours is squishy."
He went quiet for a second, staring at nothing in particular.
"And her eyes didn't do the smile thing. They were… pointy. I think. Like ice. Like ice you're not supposed to touch 'cause it'll hurt you."
He swallowed.
"And her mouth was just—" he made a straight line with his finger. "Not up. Just like that."
His voice got smaller.
"It made my tummy feel bad. Like when I did something wrong but I don't know what."
The boy looked down at his boots, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I was scared. Maybe she hates me."
Caelen felt a flash of genuine pain. Eris, his Eris, the woman who had once been the literal hearth of his life, was now a figure of terror to her own flesh and blood.
