Chapter 4

That evening after our confrontation at Ryan's office, I sat on the edge of Noah's bed, watching him fidget with the corner of his blanket. His eyes, usually bright with curiosity, seemed dimmer somehow, shadowed with a worry no seven-year-old should carry.

"Noah, sweetheart," I said gently, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Is everything okay at school?"

He shrugged, a tiny movement that broke my heart. "It's fine."

"Ms. Albright seems to think something might be bothering you," I pressed, keeping my voice soft. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

His lower lip trembled slightly…