"Is the soup okay?"
"The soup is okay."
"What about your throat? Is it hurting?"
"My throat is fine, thanks to the soup."
"Tell me if there's any pain around."
"Okay, this is good soup."
Silence.
Lengthening silence as I bend down slightly, taking the soup spoon between the grip of my pursed lips and I inhale the piping hot chicken soup from the spoon.
Aah.
"So...did he touch you anywhere else?"
"Elian."
"Yes."
"Shh. Hush now baby, I am fine."
"Okay…." He looks down to his pumpkin soup and mumbles to himself, "Baby."
Then I watch him tilt his head, taking a sip of his soup with a small curve of amusement at the corner of his lips.
