Summary:

Ilya had never really let himself picture it before. Not for too long, anyway. Himself at twelve, standing in that doorway, seeing her lifeless body on the bed. He didn’t have any photographs of himself from that age, which made it easier to keep the memory at a distance. Just a fact. Something that happened to a version of himself he barely remembered being. Niko turning twelve closed that distance. Ilya is going through a depressive episode. Which is hitting differently now that his son is the same age he was when his mom died.