VANESSA
"I don't want a third slice of pizza, Dad, I'm stuffed!" Fabian's giggles echoed through Roman's spacious kitchen as he pushed away the plate Roman offered. "Can I go see my room now? You said I could decorate it however I want!"
I watched their easy interaction, still struggling to reconcile the terror of this morning with Fabian's current excitement. His resilience amazed me—and concerned me. Should he be this okay after what happened?
Roman ruffled our son's hair. "Sure, pup. Your art supplies are already up there. The blue room, top of the stairs, second door on the right."
"Yes!" Fabian pumped his fist and slid off his chair. "I'm gonna draw dragons on EVERYTHING!"
"Maybe not the actual walls," Roman called after him as Fabian bolted for the stairs.
"No promises!" Fabian shouted back, his footsteps thundering up the staircase.
The moment Fabian was out of earshot, I slammed my palm on the kitchen counter. "What. The. Hell. Happened."