“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“I didn’t mean to… I just wanted him to stop…”
I held him tighter, rocking him like I used to when he was small. When the world was simple and I could protect him from everything just by holding him close.
But he wasn’t small anymore. And the world had gotten into him despite everything I’d tried to do.
“Tell me what happened,” I said softly. “Tell me everything.”
He pulled back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. His eyes were red. Swollen. Haunted.
“Nigel was the one,” he started, his voice hollow. “He was the leader. He’d get other kids to jump me. Hold me down while they beat me. Told everyone at school I was a fag because I played piano. Made my life hell every single day.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he said he’d get his father to kill you if I told anyone.” Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. “He said his dad knew people. Dangerous people. And his father just got out of prison. I believe him. If I ever snitched, he’d have you murdered. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let that happen to you, Mom. I couldn’t lose you.”
My heart cracked in half.
All this time. All those bruises. The broken glasses and split lips and days he came home looking like he’d been through a war.
He’d been protecting me.
A twelve-year-old boy, getting beaten every day, keeping his mouth shut because he was afraid they’d kill me.
“The money,” He whispered, remembering. “The eight hundred dollars for camp, he stole it. Made me give it to him.” Yusef’s voice broke. “I didn’t know what else to do. I just kept giving him whatever he wanted. But it was never enough. It was never enough.”
I pulled him close again, my tears soaking into his hair.
This was my fault. All of it. If I’d pushed harder. If I’d asked the right questions. If I’d seen what was right in front of my face instead of believing the lie that Nigel was his friend.
But I couldn’t fall apart. Not now. Not when he needed me to be strong.
I pulled back and held his face in my hands.
“Listen to me,” I said firmly. “We’re gonna get through this. But I need you to do exactly what I say. Can you do that?”
He nodded weakly.
“Go take a shower. A long one. Scrub your hands. Your arms. Everything. Use lots of soap.”
“Why?”
“Gunpowder residue. If the police test you, they can’t find any trace. You understand?”
His eyes went wide. The reality of what we were doing settling in.
“Z…”
“Go. Now. I’ll handle the rest.”
He stood on shaky legs and walked toward the bathroom. Stopped at the door.
“I love you,” he said quietly.
“I love you too, baby. More than anything in this world.”
