«Daddy, why do those men hate you?»
Aaron froze. «They don’t hate you, sweetheart. They made a mistake.»
«But on TV they said you were sick. In your head, you’re… Are you sick, Daddy?»
«No, baby.»
«Then why did they say that?»
He had no answer. Not one a six-year-old could understand. Not one he fully understood himself.
Midnight arrived, thick with silence.
Emma was asleep. Aaron was not. He sat in the dark living room, phone in hand, scrolling comments under the news articles.
