Page 147 of The Sound of Him

He lifts a hand like he’s going to touch me, touch my face, then squeezes it into a fist and drops it. He takes a breath that shakes as much as mine is starting to.

“Can I make you a promise?”

I blink and no tears spill over, but I can tell it’s going to happen soon.

I nod.

“I’m not going anywhere, no matter what, unless you tell me to, until-” he taps his fingertip against the word.Liberated.“-you feel that. I don’t care how long it takes. I don't care if you never do. As long as you'll have me, here I am, okay?”

I blink.

A tear spills.

He leans in, not enough to feel too close, but enough to know hemeans this, to know this isimportant. Enough for him to look me right in the eye, so close I can see those freckles of his again, and say, “Do you believe me?”

I do.

I nod because Ido.

And he smiles.

Warm.

And I smile back, shaky, small.

Warmer.

“Tell me about sancocho? And then I’ll tell you about the soy candles. And then we should listen to some kickass music and eat some candy.”

I laugh, just a little bit. More of a shaky breath paired with a firmer smile.

He smiles so big, then.

So warm.

I smile back, hard enough to hurt again.

Everything is so very warm.

Time moves differently for me.

Then Casey moves back to the safehouse and I find out he’s been struggling,dangerouslystruggling, and I give him a big hug, and the others tell him we all love him and are here for him, and even though I threw up after trying to force myself to take a bite of the mashed potatoes at dinner, and even though our next group therapy session sends me spiraling intoonly, only, only,and even though I end up back in Ace’s office to hide, I realize something.

There’s a chance I’ve been wrong.

Maybe I’m not so behind after all.

Chapter Thirty

Ace

Despite things finally going well with Carter - or maybebecausethings are finally going well with him - Travis has decided that things aren’t moving quickly enough with the search for Elliot. He wants me to do more, as if I haven’t been doing everything I possibly could. As if I haven’t spent endless nights overthinking every step, every connection, every possibility.

As if I don’t know what it’s like to be a little boy surrounded by monsters.

Not that he knows that last one, but still.

I try not to take it personally. He’s excited about his new idea. He’s not blaming me for not thinking of it. He just wants me to figure out a way to do it.