“Oh, no! It was—” His voice hitched and now he looked like he was going to cry. He lowered his voice. “I know you can make me tell you, but please don’t make me! Ma says it’s…. “
I rested my hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” I stood, took a card from my wallet, and wrote on the back. “If you’re still of the same mind when you turn eighteen, you call this number.”
His eyes grew huge behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “And I’ll get to…” He nodded toward the pocket that held his drawing.
“Yeah.”
“Gee, thanks, Mr.—” He turned the card over. “Mr. Wells.”
I’d make sure someone at Huntingdon was aware of this smart kid.
A woman dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt approached us. It was hot for long sleeves.
“Sweetie, I hope you haven’t been bothering this man.”
I stared at her,
