My brother slapped five-year-old Romy so hard she fell beside the Christmas presents, her old wooden rocking horse slipping from her hands.
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Chapter 24 / 27
Chapter 24 - THE SECOND CHRISTMAS
We did not go to the big family Christmas.
Romy did not want to.
Neither did I.
We stayed home.
My sister came.
Aunt Elise.
Two cousins.
Small.
No expensive pile of gifts.
Romy received:
Books.
A telescope.
A purple sweater.
A wooden stable I made for Pickles.
It was slightly crooked.
Dad would have insulted the joinery.
Romy loved it.
At dinner she asked:
“Uncle alone?”
“No. He’s with other family.”
“Good.”
No hatred.
No longing.
Just information.
After dinner, snow started.
Romy dragged the horse near the window.
“Grandpa likes snow?”
“He hated driving in it.”
“Did he like Christmas?”
“Yes.”
“Uncle?”
“Probably.”
She nodded.
People who hurt you still like Christmas.
May you like
Good lesson.
Humans do not become demons for narrative convenience.
