“My mom and dad didn’t live together either.” Noah hugged his sketchbook tight against his chest. “And my mom . . . she was kind of mad all the time. At first I thought it was because my dad wasn’t there. But then I wondered if it could be . . .” His volume dropped, and he kicked at a rock. “If it was my fault.”

Another clue that could suggest abuse.

Anger nipped at Steve’s composure.

“I’m sure it wasn’t, Noah.” Beth’s voice was gentle—and filled with compassion. “Sometimes moms and dads disagree about certain things, and it’s hard for them to live together. Usually it has nothing to do with their child.”

But sometimes it did.

The tacos Steve had ingested turned into a hard lump in his stomach.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Beth stopped beside her car, waiting until Noah lifted his chin to continue. “I think your mom was blessed to have a son like you. A child is a precious gift from God. And even though we just met, I can tell you’re a very special—and talented—young man. You remind me of someone I loved very much.”

“Jonathan?”

Beth telegraphed a question over Noah’s shoulder.

“I told him about Jonathan.” Steve gave her the short version of the discussion he and Noah had had while driving home from Charley’s studio the day of their visit. “How he had a bad heart we never knew about, and that God called him home last summer.”

Beth’s irises began to glisten, and she gave a small nod. Refocused on Noah. “Yes. He was a wonderful young man. He liked to draw too.”

“I know. Sergeant Adams told me. He said you both miss him a bunch.”

“Yes, we do.”

“I’m sorry he died—but he was lucky to have you guys. I know he didn’t live very long, but shorter might be worth it to have a mom and dad who love you.” Noah shuffled his toe against the pavement.

Beth’s breath caught.

She was trying not to cry.

Steve could relate. The scene around him had blurred as well.

“Noah—would it be all right if I give you a hug before I go?” Beth’s question came out choked.

“I guess.”

She balanced the crutches against the car and held out her arms, letting the boy come to her. When he did, she drew him to her and held on tight.

Noah didn’t seem in any hurry to let go.

At last, however, he stepped back.

“Thank you.” Beth touched his arm. “I haven’t had a hug like that in a long time.”

“I’ve never had one like that.”

At the boy’s soft admission, pressure built again in Steve’s throat.

“We’ll do it again next time too. Okay?” Beth managed to give him a shaky smile.

“Okay.”