As she chewed her food, Sonia thought back to the night Ray had come over for dinner and the strange comment he had made about Henry not being allowed to eat much ice cream. Perhaps his wife had restricted Henry’s sugar intake. Some parents had a bit of a phobia when it came to letting their kids eat sugar. But there had been such an air of sadness in Ray’s expression when he’d said it that it made her think there was more to it than that. Had his wife deprived Henry of toys too? But if that was the case, why did he miss her so much?
“I talked to your dad today, Henry,” Sonia said, smiling at him. ”He said you could stay with us for a few days.”
“For real?” Jessica spluttered, choking on a mouthful of rice. ”Yeah! This is going to be so much fun. I always wanted a little brother or sister.” She jumped up from the table and hugged Henry before resuming her seat. ”We can build a blanket fort and I can read Henry stories.”
“That’s a great idea,” Sonia agreed. She turned to Henry. “Do you like reading stories with your dad?”
He stopped munching his egg roll and stared across the table at her. After a beat of silence, he gave a dejected shake of his head.
Sonia let him swallow his food before trying again, “What kinds of things do you and your dad like to do together?”
Henry threw a distressed look Jessica’s way before giving a barely perceptible shrug of his shoulders.
”Do you like to go swimming with him?” Jessica asked in a helpful tone.
Henry shook his head.
“How about watching movies?” Jessica persisted.
After thinking about it for a moment, he gave a tentative nod.
“We love watching movies too,” Sonia said. “What’s your favorite movie, Henry?”
His gaze roved around the table searching each face in turn, as if seeking the answer, before his eyes welled up with tears. ”I miss … my… mommy.”
“Oh, sweetie!” Sonia said, rising from her seat and reaching over to pick him up. She settled him in her lap and rocked him gently back-and-forth for several minutes as he sniffled pitifully. “I know you miss your mommy. Did you used to watch movies with her?”
Henry scooted up in her lap and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. “No,” he hiccupped. “We … we played ball.”
Sonia caught her breath. Henry had talked a little to Jessica off and on, but this was the first thing he had ever shared directly with her. She kissed the top of his head as she thought of how best to respond. She didn’t want to say anything that he might perceive as criticism of his mother—it sounded as if she’d been as strict about television and movies as she had been about sugar. ”Playing ball is fun too. I love being outside in the fresh air.”
“Not outside,” Henry said, furrowing his dark brows. “In our room.”
Sonia exchanged a perplexed look with Evelyn. “You mean, in your house?”
Henry studied her face, before nodding in agreement.
Not for the first time, Sonia got the feeling he was giving her the answers he thought she wanted. It was almost as if he was afraid to say the wrong thing. She was no child welfare professional, but her motherly instincts told her Henry had been taught to live in fear. But of whom? And by whom? His father, or his mother? Had Ray abducted Henry to get him out of an abusive situation—or an overly controlling one? But then why did Henry seem so disconnected to Ray?
“What did you play with your mom when she got sick?” Jessica asked, resting her chin in her hands and blinking innocently across at him.
Alarmed at the direction the conversation was taking, Sonia tried to catch her daughter’s eye. She shot Evelyn an urgent plea for help, but her mother merely shrugged in response. No doubt, she was all too eager to hear everything Henry had to say now that he was talking.
“She not got sick,” Henry said in a scolding tone.
”What happened to her then?” Jessica prodded.
Sonia groaned inwardly, fearing the worst—that Henry would clam up again, or burst into tears and be inconsolable for the rest of the evening. But, to her surprise, he remained composed. He seemed to handle Jessica’s blunt line of questioning better than even the most innocuous interaction with adults.
“He hurted her.” His little voice was unwavering and insistent. He turned to Sonia, put his small hands around her neck, and gave a quick squeeze. “Like this.”
10
Sonia shrank back from the unexpected pressure of Henry’s hot, little hands around her throat. ”Who are you talking about, Henry?” she asked in a subdued tone. “Who hurt your Mommy?”
His body turned rigid, as if it had suddenly dawned on him what he’d let slip. Silently, he slid down from her lap and trotted back to his seat.
“Did your daddy do it?” Jessica whispered loudly to him, eyes wide with fascination.
Henry clutched his spoon, his gaze fixed firmly on the fried rice on his plate.
Jessica made a couple more attempts to drag an answer out of him, before Sonia’s glaring daggers silenced her. There was a reason Henry had abruptly stopped talking. The fear in his face had been unmistakable. It would be wrong of them to push him for more details. Was it his dad he was frightened of? Had he witnessed his mother being abused? Sonia’s throat pulsed as she pictured an enraged Ray with his hands locked around his wife’s neck, tightening his grip as their young son looked on. The food churned in her stomach. She’d suspected all along that something was off, but after Henry’s disturbing revelation, she could no longer brush it aside. As a concerned citizen, she should pick up the phone and report this to the police. But what exactly would she tell them? Henry was only four years old—the authorities wouldn’t
