Once her father was down, the girl started kicking him. Her tears rushed and her foot pulled back and swung into his stomach, his side, his face. Dzinski wrapped his arms around her and dragged her away. She turned and sobbed against his chest.
His hand reached reflexively for the back of her head, to soothe, to calm, to console, but stopped. Dzinski pulled away.
The girl looked up at him with something in her eyes he didn’t want to see. She blinked and whatever it was, was gone, so he told himself he imagined it.
They left the kitchen.