“Boys,” Evelyn cries the moment she stumbles into the house. She’s still wearing her cotton nightgown, now splattered with mud and blood and grass stains, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“Mama?” Alvin’s tired little face appears above the back of the couch. He blinks and rubs his eyes. “Mama!” he cries again when he sees her, true worry in his voice. Alvin throws himself over the back of the couch and mother and son run to each other, colliding in the kitchen. Evelyn falls to her knees, crying as she holds her boy close to her chest.
“Mommy!” Ian calls, coming around the couch and running to the kitchen. “I’m sorry, mommy,” he says, sniffing and hugging her from behind. “I fell asleep – I was so tired waiting for you.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Evelyn murmurs, turning to wrap him in a hug as
