Diesel shook his head. “I think whether or not we tell him depends on whether any of the photos were uploaded. If they were, he needs to know how to protect himself should he ever be recognized. Either way, those kids are gonna need therapy. Lots of therapy. Both of them.”

He suddenly looked exhausted, chin dipping, shoulders slumping, and Dani wanted—no, needed—to comfort him. Before she could overthink it, she laid a hand on his forearm and felt his muscles twitch at the contact.

When he lifted his chin to look at her, she gave him an encouraging smile. “Meredith is a good place to start.” Adam’s wife had helped a lot of kids, victims of all kinds of trauma. But she specialized in providing therapy to children and adolescents who’d been victims of sexual assault.

“I know.” Diesel dropped his gaze to where Dani was touching him, staring for a long, long moment before covering her hand with his, making her shiver at the unexpected warmth. “I’m going to ask her to take Michael on as a client. Unless you know of a therapist who signs.”

“Faith does, but she’s not fluent. I can ask around. Until then, Mer can hire an interpreter.” Dani knew that she should probably pull her hand away, but it felt too good sandwiched between his palm and his arm. “Can you find out if anyone else has hacked into the stepfather’s hard drive?”

“I’m going to try after dinner. But first I’m going to identify who owns the shell corporation that bought their house.” He attempted a smile. “Whatever you’re making smells really good.”

“Macaroni and cheese casserole. Comfort food for Michael and Joshua. My stepfather, Bruce, used to make it for us if we’d had a bad day.”

“So your mom remarried?”

“After my father died, yes, but not for several years. And we didn’t have Bruce that long. He and Mom died in a car accident when Greg was a baby. We ended up back with Tammy and Jim. But for a while, when we lived with Mom and Bruce, we were really happy.”

Diesel’s smile was sweet. “I’m glad you had that for even a little while.”

He hadn’t had any happiness. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she could tell. She also strongly suspected he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Rising, she pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, clearly surprising him as much as she surprised herself. “You’ll figure out the shell corporation,” she said confidently. “Maybe you just need to feed your brain. Bruce’s mac-a-chee is a most excellent source of carbs.”

She started to back away, but her hand was still trapped between his arm and palm. He scooped it into his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before letting her go.