“Hey, kiddo,” I whispered.
His eyelids fluttered, then opened. For a second his eyes were wild with panic, as if he did not know if he was awake or trapped in a nightmare. Then he saw me, and something in him loosened.
“Kendall,” he croaked. His voice sounded scraped raw. “I am sorry.”
My throat tightened so hard it hurt. “Sorry for what?” I asked. “This is not your fault.”
His gaze flicked toward the curtain dividing his bed from the next room. On the other side, I could hear soft beeping that belonged to Leighton and Matteo. I did not look yet. I could not look yet.
Brandon looked back at me, eyes glossy. “Evelyn told me,” he whispered.
Ice slid down my spine. “Told you what?”
Brandon swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed like he was forcing the words through a narrow opening. “She pulled me aside when the delivery guy left,” he said. “She said the box was only for you. She said it was a special grown-up treat. She told me I was not allowed to open it. She told me I was not allowed to take any.”
I stared at him.
He kept talking, shame rising in his expression. “I did not listen,” he admitted. “Leighton and Matteo were begging. I thought she was being weird about diets or calories. She always talks about diets. I thought it was just that.”
His voice trembled. “I did not think there was anything bad in it.”
I reached out and cupped his cheek gently, careful of the wires. His skin was hot, too warm.
“You did nothing wrong,” I said. “Do you hear me? You did nothing wrong. Adults are supposed to keep you safe. You were not supposed to predict evil.”
A tear slid from the corner of his eye, and it made him look younger than twelve. I kissed his forehead.
“Rest,” I told him. “I will handle this.”
I stepped out of the room before the rage inside my chest spilled over in front of him.
