Inside the dim, quiet bedroom, the muffled sobs gradually subsided into soft hiccups.
Kurt remained standing by the bed with his hand resting gently on Tristan's trembling back until the boy finally pulled back, wiping his red eyes with the sleeve of his long shirt.
"Alright," Kurt pulled up a nearby wooden chair and sat down so he was at eye level with the young boy.
"Tell me what happened, Tristan. Maggie told me what she knew, but I want you to be honest with me."
Tristan looked down at his lap and squeaked out a cracking voice. "I-It's all my fault. It's all my fault because... because I got angry with her."
"Go on. I'm listening."
"Every night... she would talk about M-Mom and D-Dad. She would go on… and on about all the fun things we were going to do when they came back home from their adventure. Every night, she would ask me to teach her how to read... just so she could read those letters you and Mr. Dominik gave her."
