This morning Carmen and I were sitting on the couch enjoying our respective literature, when all of a sudden I heard some sniffling. I looked over and Carmen had tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong, honey?" I asked, concerned.
"I'm a little bit sad," she said.
"What happened?" I thought she must be feeling sick, since she'd seemed so happy before.
"This," she said, pointing to her book:
She then turned the page, wiped her eyes, and smiled contentedly. "He got away."