silent

39

• LORENZO •

Amalia sleeps way past one o'clock, and when I check on her at half past, she's stirring.

     She rubs her eyes and stretches out, making the cutest little sound, and I smile. She looks at me and waves.

"Hi, baby." I say. "Did you sleep okay?" I ask her. She nods as I sit down next to her, then attempts to sit up. She clenches her eyes shut and lets out a small whimper, so I gently ease her back into a laying position. She frowns, but doesn't try to sit up again.

     "Do you want me to get you anything to eat?" I question. "You must be hungry."

     She shakes her head.

     "Do you want me to get you a drink, then?"

She nods this time. I smile. "Okay, I'lm be back in a second."

I stand up and walk out of the room quickly. When I get to the kitchen, Xander is there, on his phone. He glances up at me when I enter.

"Is Amalia okay?" He asks.

"She's fine." I say, grabbing a water from the fridge. I make my way back to my little girls room, and her eyes are closed when I walk back in, closing the door lightly behind me. At the small click it makes, she lurches up. I walk over to her and pass her the bottle of water. She takes it with a shaky hand, then uncaps the lid and has a long sip.

     "Are you feeling any better?" I ask, hope lining my words. She shrugs. I tilt my head and watch her as she sets the bottle onto her bedside table. Then, she swings her legs over the bed and stands, walking over to her desk chair and grabbing her school socks off the back of it. She begins to put them on. I furrow my eyebrows. "What're you doing, Lia?"

     "I have school." She says sleepily.

     Like it does whenever she speaks, my heart twirls.

     "You're not going to school today, baby. And it's too late, anyway, it's almost two o'clock." I tell her.

She doesn't look happy. Her eyebrows furrow in anger. "Why—why didn't you w-wake me up?"

"You're too sick to go to school." I tell her.

"Nuh-uh." She says.

I grin. "Mhm." I hum. "Come on, sweetheart, come get comfy in bed."

     "I have to f-feed Petal." She says, looking to the little puppy on her bed, which is on the floor.

"I can feed Petal." I tell her.

"But.. but you don't k-know how—how she likes it."

My eyebrow arches. "And how does she like it?"

"Erm.." She whispers. My lips tilt up at the corners. "She likes w-when you put it—it in th—the bowl."

     "I'll try to remember that." I say softly. She bites her bottom lip nervously and nods. "Now do you wanna get back into bed?"