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“How is it?” Trip tried.
Mr. Zollun didn’t respond, and Trip wondered if he’d heard him. But then he heard sniffling and looked up to find the boy sobbing. Fat ugly tears rolled down his cheeks and he had to stop eating to wipe them away. Oddly enough, Trip wasn’t taken back by this response.
Haven’t I seen this before?
He remembered the face of his twin brother the first night he stayed over and Trip had cooked dinner. It was their favourite meal as kids, just macaroni and cheese—nothing fancy. Yet his brother had wept at the table like a child. He could still see the way his face broke, eyes swirling in sorrow and relief. The tears had seemed endless.
Ah. Trip realized as he watched the same endless tears fall from Mr. Zollun.
They really are the same.
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