The Seed of His Father
The humid summer air hung heavy in the small, cluttered apartment. Maria, her face etched with a bitterness that belied her forty years, watched her son, Leo, sleep. He looked so peaceful, his brow unfurrowed, his lips slightly parted. It was an image that tugged at a long-dormant corner of her heart, but the pull was quickly overpowered by the burning ember of resentment that had taken root and b...