“Okay, then.” Dani exhaled quietly. “Who did this to you, Michael?”

Michael’s chin jerked up, his gaze flying once again to Kendra. He shook his head hard. No communication was necessary. He wasn’t telling.

“All right,” Dani said, voicing as she signed. “I’m going to need to clean the area and pack it with gauze.”

Michael turned his face away, new tears sliding down his cheeks.

Goddammit. She hated causing the boy more pain and humiliation. She relented. If he bled primarily after a bowel movement—or a six-mile run followed by the extreme stress of being accused of murder, not to mention the body-racking sobs—this was probably a minor fissure that would repair itself.

She tapped his arm gently, waiting until he looked at her miserably. “I understand. I’ll find you something to wear and leave you some gauze. We’ll give you privacy to clean yourself up. When we get to my house, I’ll give you some fiber supplements. It’ll help you not to strain, which will help you heal. But if you don’t heal, we’ll need to see a specialist.”

He nodded, looking away again. “Okay,” he signed, his fingers barely moving. “Thank you.”

Dani patted his knee. “Let me get you the scrubs.”

“You’re going to report this?” he asked, glancing at her.

She sighed. “I have to. I’m sorry.”

He nodded once. “I know.”

Dani turned to Kendra. “Is this sufficient?”

Kendra’s nod was grim. “Oh, yeah.” She reached for the doorknob. “If he lets you document the rectal tearing, we can add it to the report.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but pursed her lips and left the room.

The interpreter hesitated, then walked into Michael’s line of sight. She quickly relayed Kendra’s closing comments, then gave Michael her card. “Text me or video-call me if you need help. I’ll come.”

Michael took the card and closed his eyes. He looked so damn tired.

Dani motioned for the interpreter to leave first, then she followed, closing the door behind her. There was a heavy silence in the reception area. Deacon, Adam, and Diesel waited, seeming to realize that the women needed a moment to center themselves.

Kendra sat on the edge of the intake desk, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The interpreter sank into the chair, her skin appearing gray under the harsh lights.

Stripping the gloves from her hands, Dani rested her weight against the exam room door, closing her eyes, feeling as weary as Michael had looked. Normally she went to her office to cry in private after a stressful exam such as this one, but today she had an audience. “Where is Maddie?” she asked, realizing the social worker was not with them. “And Joshua?”

“In your office,” Diesel said quietly, his voice suddenly much closer than it should have been.