Dejé a mi hijo en casa con una niñera – a mitad del día, me llamó y susurró ‘Mami, tengo miedo. Vuelve a casa.

“No, sweetheart,” I said. “She was awake when they took her, remember? She said goodbye to you and that she’ll see you soon!”

“Then what happened?” he asked.

“She fainted,” I said. “Her body was tired and thirsty. Remember how I tell you to have enough water and juice when it’s hot? Ruby didn’t.”

He stared up at the ceiling.

“She made a noise when she fell. Like a thud. I thought maybe her brain broke.”

Tears stung my eyes. This was on the list of things that a child shouldn’t carry. It was the innocence in his voice that had me coming undone.

“I wanted to shake her, but I remembered what you said. About not moving someone if they’re hurt. So I got the pillow. And the cold thing. But she didn’t wake up.”

“You did so well,” I said, my voice breaking.

“I felt really alone,” he said, looking at me seriously.

I swallowed hard.

“I know. And I’m so sorry. But you weren’t alone, Ben. I was already coming. The moment you called, I was running.”

“Your eyes look like hers did,” he whispered.

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Want some ice cream?” I asked. “I know it’s late. But we had a tense day, didn’t we?”

He nodded.

I went to the kitchen, the weight of everything sinking into my shoulders. I scooped ice cream into bowls, adding chocolate sauce. The sugar would send Ben into a spiral but it was worth it.

He needed a pick-me-up.

Later, he fell asleep with his hand still in mine.