“Please stay.

That thing is coming loose.

Please stay with us.”

Julian looked down at him.

And in that moment, from several rows back, Sienna began to cry out — frightened, as any child would be, but held safe in the arms of a teacher, unhurt, already secure, already being carried toward the door.

And my husband reached down, and he took his own son’s fingers, and he peeled them, one by one, off his sleeve.