"Life's full of shitty circumstances," Karla replied warmly. "It doesn't mean that we're not allowed to enjoy the beautiful people that come into our lives as a result of them. Richie is the epitome of that in my life. The most beautiful thing to ever come of a terrible thing for me." She couldn't help the hint of a humorless laugh at Lorenzo's soothing daddy tone paired with the words that, though painful, couldn't have been more true and accurate in its description of what they probably all thought about the biological father of the two young men. He was dead, and there was never going to be a "rest his soul" sentiment from any of them. They were all glad the fucker was dead and in the ground and not hurting anyone else. Karla had actually lived in fear that he would resurface one day and demand a relationship with Richie. She'd heard of rapists doing that very thing, and it had terrified her. So when the news finally came that the bastard was dead, Karla had heaved a sigh of relief, grateful as all hell that he would never show up again, try to find her, or try to take her son from her.

Like Richie, Karla was caught by surprise at the mention that Holly, Richie, and Lorenzo's eyes weren't the bastard cunt's eyes. She had seen them so clearly in that bathroom all those years ago, and it had taken a long time for her to begin to see and accept them as Richie's eyes instead of as her rapists'. And now Lorenzo was saying that they were someone else's all together. "Your... Your grandmother?" she asked softly, one eyebrow raising inquisitively. "But I thought..." She shook her head. "I always thought they were... They were his." She followed the young men into Lorenzo's place and gave Lorenzo a small smile. "I'll just have ice water, if you don't mind," she said. "Thank you."