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My heart squeezes in my chest. I know he means that. I’m certain he does. But I also know he says it to hurt me because he knows that the one thing I have always wanted to give him is the one thing I can’t.

“Can Easton go on a walk with me?” he says after a moment of very pointed silence.

“No,” I say at the exact same time as Easton steps into the room and says, “Of course.”

He freezes and swallows, looking over at me. “Uh…I mean. Well, bud, your dad⁠—”

“It’s fine,” I say softly.

Easton bites his lip. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s safe out here, it really is. But⁠—”

“It’s fine,” I snap, cutting him off. “Just don’t go far.”

“Oh. Now you’re bossing him around too?” Elio snarls.

Easton’s eyes go wide, but I wave it off. “Call me if you need me.”

Easton looks like he’d rather die than go against my wishes, but I don’t want to have the talk about Elio’s abilities, his disability, and being able to access a normal teenage thing—like being able to storm out of a room and slam the door on his parent when he’s pissed.

Not right now, anyway.

Easton’s hesitant as he gets Elio up from the couch and situated in his chair, and then he comes over and kneels beside the window bench and takes both of my hands in his, kissing my fingertips.

“I can stay if you want.”

“He needs to get out,” I murmur. “He’s angry. I’m not sure I’m making the right decision, and I just…I need some time to think.”

He surges up and kisses me before standing. “Alright. We’ll both have our phones on if you need anything.”

I nod and deliberately don’t watch as the two of them leave the room. Eventually, I hear the open-and-shut slide of the back door, and I know they’re taking the ramp out onto the packed pathway that leads into the trees.

The place is safe, and the land is accessible for Elio’s chair. There’s a little creek that runs out behind the house. I haven’t seen it, but I doubt it’s very deep, and I very much doubt that Easton will let Elio dive face-first into it. Not with his own trauma involving kids and water.

Leaning my head against the glass, I take several deep breaths, but my attempt to calm myself down is thwarted when my phone rings. But it’s Daphne’s tone, and I scramble to answer before it can go to voicemail.

“Hey.”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” she says in a rush. “There was an incident with a duck and the pond and my phone—and I didn’t even know you’d called. Rune, tell me he’s okay.”

“He’s okay.”

She lets out a sobbing breath. “Fuck. Right before I was going to call you, some detective rang me. Ahmed?”

“Yeah. Yes. She’s the one handling the case against Neal.” Closing my eyes, I recount the events of the last couple of weeks. She, of course, knew about Elio and the pond, but everything else is new information, and I can tell that the longer I go on, the more upset she’s getting.

“Why didn’t you phone me the moment Neal started getting weird!”

I rub a hand down my face. “Because I didn’t want to disturb your work. I knew he was going to be a pain in the ass. I didn’t know he’d completely lose it.”

She’s quiet for a beat. “Yeah, me either.”

That’s not what I thought she was going to say. I assumed she was going to tell me she always knew he was a complete nutjob.

“He was always a fucking weasel, but I didn’t take him for a total psychopath.”

I grimace. “Yeah. He’s in jail right now, and I have no idea when his arraignment is or if he’s going to be offered bail.”

“And Elio?” she asks. “How is he? Can I talk to him?”