Burr snorts at the mention of Thomas Paine. Of course, another over-the-top pamphlet about the two of them would be just what the country at war needed. More family drama, spun as pure Americana.

But he stops when Hamilton brings up his mother. Something Hamilton only ever dropped hints about--that Burr would never ask about directly, no matter how curious about the depths of Hamilton's anxieties, regarding money, position, Burr's health, Theo's health. Normal enough, on their own, if not the feral look that seemed to underwrite those moments. If not for Hamilton's drive, as if at every moment decisions were leveraged against death and damnation.

"I would like to hear," Burr says softly, probing himself up beside Theo to gaze up into Hamilton's face. Never a time when he might feel more secure than now, with the entirety of his family propped on his chest. Theo wasn't even crying, drifting half asleep, drooling.