"Zeke--!" Kathy wanted to ask what Ezra could have done to make him hate him so much but - no. That wasn't hate. And it wasn't really anger, either. That was pain, so much pain that she thought he might be nearly drowning in it.

Kathy looked at Ezra, a little bit helpless. She knew pain like Zeke had. But her methods of dealing it were so vastly different than his - he was too much like his father in that regard. She wanted to get up, hug him, kiss him, promise him that he was loved and wanted and precious.

None of that was what he needed right now. And she didn't know what was.