Breaking Her at Thanksgiving
Solène’s smile never faded as she collected them, her eyes dropping to the drawing Katie had made.
“What is this?” She asked gently, taking the drawings—bright colors, uneven shapes, familiar figures.
“I’m still learning to draw people.” Katie said, scooting to Solene’s side.
Then, one by one, she pointed at the figures on the paper Solene held on top.
“This is Grandma, this is you, this is Mommy, and this is Uncle Atlas!” She said, proud of herself.
Solène raised a brow. “That’s good. You almost got our faces right.” She laughed.