I lay curled up on the bed, my face pressed into the pillow, soaking it with tears I hated myself for shedding. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was childish. But my chest ached with the feeling of disappointing my mother. 

The bedroom door opened, and I didn’t move. I didn’t need to look to know it was him. 

Then the mattress dipped, and I could suddenly feel his warmth as they spread beside me. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t need to. 

“Sabrina…” he said ...