No Apologies, No Regrets
Judah’s mother, Aika, was the first to pull herself together, though her hands trembled as she dialed the numbers no mother ever wishes to dial.
“Armstrong…” she choked into the phone, voice barely audible. “It’s Judah. There’s been an incident. He is… dead.”
She called Maria next—Judah’s only sister. Then Fedora’s mother.
Aika tried not to cry again, but when Fedora collapsed to her knees by the nursery door, unmoving, her face blank and unblinking, something in Aika broke.
She rushed over, kneeling beside her daughter-in-law. “Baby, please… Talk to me. Please.”