Hailee's POV
"Goodnight, boys," I whispered after leaning down to kiss each of their cheeks. They murmured it back, quiet, half-hearted, their little faces turned away from me. My chest squeezed so tightly I thought I wouldn't be able to breathe. Since two days ago—since that talk—they had been giving me nothing but cold shoulders and curt answers. It hurt. Moon above, it hurt more than anything. My boys, my treasures, treating me like I was the enemy. Frederick had tried to reassure me, saying children were quick to forgive, that they would get over it soon. And maybe he was right. But still… this was different. My boys never stayed angry at me for more than an hour. And now? Two days had passed. Two long, aching days of silence. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
