He nodded, relieved. He didn’t want anyone seeing his bloody pants or briefs. It was humiliating enough as it was. “I will. Thank you.”

She gave him a knowing look, then opened the closet door and reached for a first aid kit on the top shelf. “Gauze and salve for your injury,” she said, all business.

His cheeks flamed, but he nodded. Think of it as a mugging. Coach’s suggestion had worked with the lawyer and it worked here, too. He relaxed and took the first aid kit from her. “Thank you,” he said again.

“If you need anything, text me. My cell phone number is on the card next to the bed. If you start bleeding, you need to let me know. You can text me or write a note and leave it on my desk if you aren’t comfortable telling me in person, but you need to tell me. I won’t embarrass you, but if you continue bleeding, I need to get you to another doctor.”

He drew a breath and nodded. “I promise.”

“Okay.” She pulled a few bright red plastic bags from the top shelf. “Biohazard bags. It’s just good practice to put your bloody gauze in one of these and seal it up. If you leave the bag in the cabinet under the bathroom sink, I’ll check there and collect it.”

He took the red bags gingerly. “Okay.”

“What about allergies? Food? Medication? For either you or Joshua?”

He shook his head. “Nothing that I know of.”

“Who’s your doctor?”

“I don’t have one. I guess Joshua did, because he got his shots when he was a baby. I went with my mother when she took him to his doctor visits. She was kind of messed up then. My dad had just died. In Iraq. She drank a lot before then, but the drugs started after my dad died. She was pretty stoned the whole first year. She got a little better, but then it got a lot worse.”

Dr. Dani’s expression softened. “So you’ve always taken care of Joshua?”

He nodded once, grateful that she understood. “Yeah.” He’d been the one to hold Joshua while the doctor stuck him with needles. He’d given his little brother his baths, changed his diapers, rocked him to sleep, fed him during the night. His mother had simply checked out.

“I took care of my little brother when he was an infant, too,” Dr. Dani said. “My mom and stepdad died when I was sixteen. Teething and midnight feedings were so much fun, am I right?”

He huffed a chuckle. “So much fun.”

She looked to one side, head tilted like she was thinking, then nodded. “Do you get services in school? Speech therapy, anything like that?”

“No, but I do have an interpreter, just like Greg.”

“No hearing aids or cochlear implant?”