Chapter 231Dante stood at the counter with the knife in his hand and felt that cold crack open up again, wider this time.*The clothes. The quiet. The jam. The dinosaur.*He turned and looked at the boy, really looked, the way he hadn't let himself look in the market or the car, when relief had been doing all his seeing for him. The boy was sitting on the edge of the couch now, small and straight and still, in that fine dark clothing that wasn't R's, watching Dante with those careful gray eyes. R's eyes. The same gray. The same careful. The same——and Dante's exhausted, aching, grateful heart did exactly what it had done all day.It flinched away from the thought before the thought could finish forming.Because the thought, if he let it finish, was *monstrous.* The thought was that this was not his son. And Dante had held this boy. Had crushed him to his chest in the market and wept into his hair. Had buckled him into the car with his own h
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