“I don’t want to listen. I want—”
He’s trying to rock back and forth again. His eyes are watery with tears. He’s still struggling but it’s half-hearted.
“Lev, please. Take a deep breath.”
“My fort. I want to be in my fort… The train is coming… My enemies are coming… I want…”
“There is no train, Lev. There are no enemies, either. I’ve taken care of all of them.”
Lev shakes his head. “My books… My games… My paints…”
His body has gone limp, which is how I know it’s safe to release him. His outbursts are abrupt, sometimes unpredictable, but they fade away as fast as they come. I turn him around slowly so that we’re face to face.
“You have books, games, and paint in your new room.”
His eyebrows are pulled together tight enough to erase any gap between them. His dark brown eyes zip past
