13
“Aaron?”
He nodded. I jumped from the bench to hug him. Somehow it felt right for both of us. I’ve never had maternal instincts. Even brief moments with friends’ children had me wondering what alien planet the little humanoids were from. But this was right. I found a connection with Aaron, and he was hurting.
"Aaron, I was so worried you were someone else. Sit down, and tell me what's wrong. Tell me how I can help you."
As I led him to the bench, I noticed his dry, cracked hands. Not something typically seen with humid summers. Is that a bruise on his arm?
He restlessly perched on the bench as if ready to bolt. His eyes darted. "We should go," he said, his voice cracked.
"Go where? Why?" I offered him my water bottle. When he shook his head, I pressed it into his hand.
"We're in
