The boy shook his head, then stepped close and gave Manus a
hug. It made Manus feel strange, as it had at the baseball game, but
he patted the boy on the shoulder again and that seemed okay. The
boy stepped back and hugged the woman, who kissed him on top
of the head.
Ten minutes for real, Dash. No flashlight.
The boy gave her a small busted smile, went into his room, and
climbed up into his loft. The woman closed the door, and they went
back to the kitchen. A moment later, the boy walked in. Bathroom?
The woman signed. The boy nodded a little sheepishly and went off.
The woman smiled and shook her head. That’s my son. Either he doesn’t
need the bathroom at all, or he needs it right away. Nothing in between.
I was like that, too. Too many interesting things going on. It’s easy
to forget the everyday ones.
Am vazut într-un film expresia „I’m busted - Sunt falit, deci un busted smile ar fi un zâmbet ca un rictus, în colțul gurii?
From the context, I could infer a meaning for you but I wouldn’t want you to infer from my response that it’s a word I would ever use in this context or any other that doesn’t involve hand-to-hand combat!
A somewhat wacky example: “His newly-formed dental shards, cracked jaw, and slashed cheek belayed the busted smile of a broken man.”
Your suggested meanings sound like plausible inferences. I suggest replacing “busted” with: 1. one of them; 2. an alternate adjective; 3. an adjectival phrase; or 4. additional description to convey your intended meaning.
Sorry I can’t give you a more satisfying response.
All the best,