A Face That Brought Him to His Knees
Lila shifted under his gaze, uneasy.
“Are you hurt?” she asked. “Should I call my grandma? Or the police?”
He didn’t respond.
His eyes slowly filled, as though he were looking at something he had searched for over many years and stumbled upon by accident.
He lowered himself until he was kneeling in front of her, at her eye level. His hand lifted toward her face, shaking, and stopped just before touching her skin.
“What’s your name?” he asked quietly.
“Lila. Lila Monroe.”
“How old are you?”
“Ten. I’ll be eleven soon.”
She hesitated, then asked, “Why are you crying?”
The man pressed his lips together, fighting to steady his breathing.
“Do you live nearby? With your parents?”
“With my grandmother. My parents were gone when I was little. I don’t remember them.”
Something in his expression shattered.
“What is your grandmother’s full name?” he asked.
“Margaret Monroe.”
His eyes closed.
“And your mother? Do you know her name?”
Lila nodded. “Elena Monroe. She kept her last name.”
He released a sound that hovered somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
