"I had a dream."
The knife clattered to the sink. I gazed up at his reflection in the window and stretched a mask of a smile across my face. "What about, sweetie?"
"Daddy."
The mask cracked. "Did you... Was he okay?"
His reflection shivered. "He told me to ask you why you did it."
My fingertips sank into the sink and grazed the handle of the knife. "Did what sweetie? I don't know what you mean."
He nodded slowly, with a look in his eyes that could draw tears from a statue. "Daddy told me you would say that."
I turned. The room behind me was empty.
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