I can't tell them, she thought, waiting for the boat.
I can't tell them, waiting for the storm to subside.
I can't tell them, waiting for the boat to dock.
I can't tell them their brother isn't coming home.
Oh, she'd told Splinter that she'd talked to Leo almost right after it happened. Told him his son was alive and well. But then he'd asked that question, the one she couldn't answer, and for the first time in her life she'd lied to Splinter.
When is my son coming home, Miss O'Neil?
It had been like lying to God.
He was a little vague on that, actually. He thinks he's failed, thinks there's something missing. I tried to tell him what you would tell him, but I don't know if he got it.
Splinter had been silent, and she wondered how much he guessed. She wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out he could read minds. He always knew when his sons were lying. What if it wasn't a father's intuition at all and actually mystical powers? She'd actually started to panic slightly, wondering how bad it was for her karma to lie to Splinter like this, about something so important.
But he'd merely thanked her for the news and they'd said their goodbyes.
When Leo does come home, she's glad she didn't tell them. But she wonders if she should make him tell them.