Carmella waited until she heard a door open and close before leaping up and darting to the kitchen. Her eyes frantically scanned the counter for a set of knives. Every kitchen had them—except this one.
Damnit!
She looked into the sink and found a dirty butcher knife among some unwashed dishes. She backed up to the sink and felt around blindly, her hands closing carefully around the sharp blade. Once she had it securely in her grasp, she dashed back into the living room and sank back onto the couch, working the knife under the cushion behind her.
Little man had pulled himself up on his hands and knees when he saw her leave but was now exploring the couch, rocking back and forth and gurgling nonsense words. Good, he was being so good, she thought.
"Blablabla," Raj gurgled. "Dadada …"
Carmella swallowed as fresh tears welled in her eyes. He was calling his daddy. Bilal. Dada … It broke her heart. Fuck! Bilal …