Aster: Edward sat on his knees, slumped over, shoulders shaking, his head buried in his arms. At first Aster didn’t move … she had seen her father cry only once before – at her mother’s funeral, and that was so long ago now, that she could barely remember it. For some reason this display of emotion disgusted and angered her. Declan walked up to her, put his hand on her hip, bent low and whispered, “I don’t know why you feel the way you feel, but you need to talk to him.” His voice was barely audible. Her father didn’t even notice, but she heard him clear as bell. Aster nodded, and on shaky legs walked over to her father. For some reason, he repulsed her, and touching him made her skin crawl. Why? She wondered. She glanced at Declan. He gave her an encouraging nod. “Daddy,” she said. “Don’t cry. Look at me,” she lifted his head and the revulsion of seeing his face, wet with snot and tears made her gag softly, “I’m fine now.”
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