She regretted asking as soon as she saw his face.
It wasn't pain, exactly. It was something more contained than that — the look of a child who had been asked about a particular hurt so many times that he'd learned how to hold it without showing the edges.
"You miss him a lot," she said. It wasn't a question.
Xuan nodded. He was still looking at the pan.
"We do. I promised him I'd look after Linlin while he's sick. He always says that's the most important job."
"He sounds like someone who shows up."
"Always." Something in Xuan's expression eased. "He makes time for us no matter how busy he is. He plays games with us even when he's tired, and he always lets Linlin win without making it obvious."
