"What?" she paled, just a touch because it was still her son. Abel, sweet Abel, who she'd always considered to have taken after herself. Cain had taken more after his father, demanding rather then asking.
Didn't mean she wasn't still upset at God for having created a pissing match between her sons. One that had led to doom and death.
She set her hand to her mouth, then took a seat. Abel. Here. "Are you sure? Where? Is he alright?"