Page 43 of Trig

I feel my chest tighten up as the words come out. Francisco looks intensely at my face.

“Nine was pregnant and she lost the baby after the beating. Because of them, her body can’t make babies anymore.”

There is a moment of silence as he takes it in.

“Did my mom hurt her?”

I nod.

“Did my mom hurt you?”

I nod.

I can see a few tears fall down his face.

“Sometimes, she’d hurt me,” he utters.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

He shakes his head, so instead, I grab his hand and try to explain to him why people do what they do.

“We are all products of our environment. Your grandfather was not very kind to people, and maybe he was not very kind to Natasha, and in return, she was not very kind to others.” I pause. “There's an old saying that says ‘hurt people hurt people’, but we don’t have to do that. Hurt people can change the direction of the wheel at any time. You can choose to be kind. It’s a choice.”

He’s lost in thought and I just sit there thinking about my own words for a minute.

“I don’t expect you to fully understand any of this. I don’t expect you not to feel anger or pain or frustration. I’m just saying to give us a chance. Me and Nine, we have a lot of kindness to give, and maybe you can learn to at least tolerate us. We’re not that bad.”

He stares forward and doesn’t respond. It kind of feels like he needs some space.

“I’m going to go inside. If you want to come in, then come. If you want to stay out here and get a little air, that’s okay, too. Just don’t wander off.”

I stand up and slightly turn on my heel when he decides to open up.

“She used to hit me with extension cords every night—said it would toughen me up to be a man.”

I close my eyes and steady my nerves before turning around to look at him.

“I’m sorry she did that to you. Pain does not make a man. Someone who loves you will never want you to be in any pain. What she did was abuse. Do you understand what that is?”

I see his chin trembling. “She was nice sometimes, I think,” he cries.

“It’s okay to be confused. This is a confusing world. Sometimes nothing makes sense, and that’s okay.”

“Do you think she’ll ever come back and get me?”

I stare down at him, and just shake my head.

“Where do you think she went?”

“I don’t know,” I lie.

He examines my face for a long time. He’s studying me like I do to other people.

“Will you promise to tell me the truth this time if I ask you a question?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Is she dead?” he asks.

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