“Caring never got anyone anywhere in life,” Loamfield said.

Robin disputed that but didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “What’s going to happen when they bring Matthew out?”

Loamfield shrugged. “He gets entrusted into my care for a short time. I am to take him straight home and wait for the police tech team to come and install his bracelet that won’t let him leave the house.”

“Can I not take him home?” Robin found himself saying.

Loamfield shook his head. “In the eyes of the law, you are an unsuitable guardian. You’re too close to this case. They’re only allowing me to take him because I’m his representation and...”

“And what?”

“And if I run off with him they know where to find me.” Loamfield laughed.

Robin surprised himself by smiling too. He nodded. It made sense.

“Mr. Ferringham,” a voice called. “I mean, Robin.”

Robin and Loamfield looked around. The small frame of Matthew McConnell was standing at the entrance to the corridor Robin had previously gone down to meet with him. The familiar face of Stanton the guard was standing with him. When Robin met Matthew’s eyes, the young man rushed forward. Stanton hurried to keep up as he ran across the hall, clattering on the marble floor.

Matthew got to Robin and launched himself at him, enveloping him in a hug. “Thank you, Mr. Ferrin—Robin. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” The young man started to cry.

Stanton caught up and he, Robin and Loamfield exchanged awkward glances as Matthew cried into Robin’s jacket. After what seemed like a long moment, Matthew relinquished his grip.

“Thank you,” he said, rubbing his eyes and looking up at Robin. He looked shocked. “What happened to you?”

Did his forehead really look that bad? He should have at least looked in the mirror when he was back in the room.

“I...ran into a few things,” Robin said.

“Like a truck?” Stanton said gruffly, and they all looked at the guard. It could talk.

“You ready to go home, Matthew?” Loamfield said, smiling, although it was far less excited than it had been when the man had been thinking about himself.

Matthew looked from Loamfield to Robin. “Are you coming?”

Robin couldn’t help but smile, hopefully more genuinely than Loamfield. The lad seemed to need him, to want him around. “Of course. I’ll follow behind you.”

“You kept your end,” Matthew said, “and I’ll keep mine. I’ll tell you everything.” He meant it too.

Robin nodded.

“Just one small thing,” Matthew said to him and, seeing his expression, added, “Don’t worry—this one’s easy.”

“Okay, what?”

“Can you get me a pizza?” Matthew said.

Robin laughed, and nodded. “Yes, I can get you a pizza. What type of pizza do you want?”

“Literally anything,” Matthew said, and laughed too.