Chapter 92

VICTOR

Matteo was already crying before I even had the chance to tell him no.

“No, Daddy, please,” he sobbed, clutching his iPad to his chest as though the thing could disappear at any second. “I want to call her again.”

His small shoulders trembled. His hair was sticking to his forehead, damp with tears, and his lower lip kept wobbling in that way that made him look younger than he actually was.