"Bless your little heart," his grandmother always told him.
Back then, he'd watch the sailboats drift through the water by the pier, bright patches of color that stood out against the gray ocean. He'd stuff s'mores into his mouth, three at once, just to show his sisters he could. He'd stand under the stars and look for constellations.
But that was when he still loved her.
That was before he lost his mind, before he began to steal and set fires and kill, before he chose the other life.