At least the social worker had stayed outside to talk to the two detectives, but this room was too crowded. Too many people. Michael’s chest began to hurt, his breath coming faster and faster, and he clamped a hand over his mouth, afraid he’d be sick. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Dr. Dani had been preparing to check his shoulder, but from the corner of his eye he saw her pause, her gloved hand slowly rising to touch his face, like she was afraid he’d bolt.

His gaze shot up to meet hers. Gentleness. That was what he saw and felt. All that he saw and felt. She was stroking his face gently, her oddly colored eyes so patient.

No blame. No mockery. No questions. Just . . . gentleness.

“Breathe with me,” she signed with her free hand, then placed it on her chest. He watched as she breathed in and out, realizing that he was matching her pace without even trying. The nausea slowly went away, leaving him . . . tired.

“So tired,” he signed and she smiled sadly.

“I know. You can rest later. I’m not going to leave you.”

He swallowed hard. “They’ll put me in jail. You can’t stay with me then.”

Her jaw tightened, not in anger, but in determination. “I’ll fight for you, but try not to worry just yet. I want to check your shoulder, okay?”

He thought about his bruises, the deep scratches from the night he’d fallen in the woods, Joshua in his arms. The bruises had faded, but some of the scratches were still there. They’ll think I fought him. They’ll think I did it. That I killed him.

His anxiety rose once again and his head spun.

Dr. Dani’s hand cupped his face again, squeezing lightly so that he looked at her. “Breathe, honey. Breathe with me.”

He tried. He really did. But he was so damn tired. He felt the sob surging from his gut, clogging his throat. He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t. It broke free and he dropped his head, unable to keep his cries silent.

He hated to cry out loud. Hated the sounds he made. His mother used to tell him that he sounded like an animal when he cried. So he’d learned to cry with no sound at all.

But not today. He could feel the sobs coming out of his throat and the tears coming out of his eyes and he couldn’t stop them.

Dr. Dani’s arms came around him and held him tight, rocking him gently, stroking his hair.

Like he wished his mother had done, every time he’d cried. But she never had. Not once.