“She gave me a list”—my vision began to narrow just a little—“a list of p-places we can send him to. Where they can h-help him get—get—”

“No, hey, no, Bear. Listen, okay?” His arms were around me, and I pressed my face against his neck. “One step at a time. Okay? One step at a time. Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”

I choked a little at that.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think so too.”

“WHAT ARE these names here?” he asked with a frown, squinting at the email on the computer screen.

“Addiction specialists. She said that sometimes, rehab isn’t necessary. But that detox can get pretty bad. She—she says that he might need to talk to someone else, someone who specifically deals with… this.”

“He’ll be lucky if I let him out of my sight again,” Otter growled.

ON MY way. Got your Kleenex.

Okay.

HE CAME through the door. He didn’t see us right away, sitting in the living room. I craned my head back on the couch, watching him. Otter squeezed my hand.

The Kid stopped for a moment, unaware he was being watched. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He popped his neck from side to side and rolled his shoulders, like he was settling into something. I watched as he forced a smile onto his face, and he called out, “I’m home. I didn’t know what kind of Kleenex you wanted, so I got the one with lotion.”

And even faced with everything I’d been told, with everything I’d found, it was this little display that finally convinced me. That he was lying and manipulating.

It’s a sickness, his therapist had said. Addiction is. And he’ll explain it away, tell you that you’re overreacting, that you’re wrong and trying to blame him for things that aren’t true. And part of him will believe that. But I think there will be another part to him, however small it may be, that knows you love him, that knows you’re right. He’s going to be a cornered animal. He may say things that are cruel. But it’s the addiction talking. It’s the fact that he was caught. He loves you, Bear. The both of you. And if I can be sure of anything, it’s that.

Yes, yes, it whispered. There is that. There is always going to be that. But you don’t even know him anymore, do you? He’s kept this from you for months. Kind of fucked-up if you think about it, isn’t it? Hey, but just think of how much like his mother he is! Isn’t that fun?

“In here,” Otter said. “Bring your backpack.”

And I saw the Kid tense, just a moment.

He looked over into the living room.

He saw me watching him.

The smile tilted down, just a little, the fake thing that it was.