Hate looks like everybody else until it smiles

My father couldn't warm my frozen hands.

I peek up at his features, at the crooked grin i want to savor, at the color in his eyes i'd use to paint a million pictures.

My voice softens. 'How old are you?'
'I'll be eleven next year.'
I grin. 'So you're ten years old?'
He crosses his arms. Frowns. 'I'll be twelve in two years.'
I think I already love this kid.

You're naked?" Kenji is suddenly studying my sheet and not bothering to be subtle about it. I flush despite my best efforts, flustered, frustrated.

"Blondie said they destroyed my clothes."

"Blondie?" Blond man is offended.

I touch the tip of my finger to his lips. "There are secrets in here," I say. "I want them out."

He tries to bite my finger.

I steal it back.