lay down your load

“She can cook,” Sam said quietly, voicing something there’d never quite been space for before, “but I think it reminds her of her parents.”

Evan hummed from her left. His breathing was even once again, his eyes shut and face relaxed. Sam was glad something about the complicated tangle of feelings and thoughts that she’d spilled without thinking about it had helped. “Your mom sounds great.”

Sam almost asked about his, but decided against it, remembering hell is a dark forest where your dad opens up his ribcage and invites you to dance. She didn’t want to find out if Evan had meant that literally. “She is,” she said, after a second. “I hope she’s okay.”