Saint said in almost a whisper. He hit the overhead light. Hassani blinked, the sudden brilliance blinding him as his eyes tried to adjust. He put his little hand up to his face, rubbed his dark eyes softly, then peered between his little tan fingers at his father, as if he were afraid. “I’m sorry, Daddy. … I didn’t hear you coming,” he mumbled. Saint sighed loudly and slumped down onto Hassani’s bed. He pushed his legs forward, his calves flexed as he dug his toes into the soft carpet before crossing his ankles. Many seconds of silence passed. “So this is what you’ve been up doing?” Saint asked softly. Hassani nodded, refusing to make eye contact. Two figurines still spun around on the floor, moving aimlessly as one tiny toy plastic police car bumped repeatedly into the wall, red and blue lights flashing brightly. “How long have you been able to do this?”
