Danny blinked. “It’s a gemstone.”
“It is,” Sam agreed. “And you’re worth it.”
A heat crept up Danny’s neck. “What if someone else needs it?”
“Then I’ll get a new one.”
Silence settled between them again, but this time it had a shape.
Danny rolled the stone between his fingers, the cool weight settling something in his belly.
Lapis lazuli.
Truth. Protection. Clarity.
A load of woo-woo, maybe, but it was his. He liked the feel of it. It made things feel less slippery inside his own skull. Danny tucked the stone into the pocket of his hoodie and said nothing more and neither did Sam.
Chapter Five
The noise in the gym was a bubble of high-pitched laughter, shuffling socked feet, and the rustle of plastic balls tumbling out of the pit like rainbow-colored avalanches. Easton leaned back in the supervisor chair and gripped the armrests. He wasn’t scheduled yet but volunteered when one of Derek’s appointments ran late. He didn’t mind stepping in already. This was why he’d come here.
Across the mats and beanbags, familiar faces darted and played. He grinned as Sadie in her hot pink overalls marched over the gym mats, leading a conga line of giggling Littles. Megan and Luna were deep in the play kitchen, arguing about whether marshmallow soup needed glitter or not. And Wren was... Easton shook his head. Well, Wren was attempting to sell imaginary cupcakes for five thousand kisses.
He smiled, his weight shifting slightly as he scanned the edges of the group and noticed a door opening.
Jayne entered quietly from the side entrance. “Butterfly group reporting for chaos.” She shot him a wan smile as she approached and indicated the newcomers with her head.
Easton’s gaze moved past her and faltered. None of the faces were familiar. Not one!
Disappointment washed over him like a tidal wave.
A small herd of Littles, all in tie-dyed T-shirts, clustered behind Jayne, some skipping, others clinging nervously to stuffies. But Danny wasn’t among them.
He should’ve been.
“Danny signed up for Butterfly, didn’t he?” Easton asked before he could stop himself.
Jayne’s eyes flicked to him. “Yes, but he hasn’t joined yet. Sam said he needed a bit more time.”
“Sam? Is he in therapy?”
A nod. Nothing more.
Well, therapy was good. At least the boy wasn’t stewing in his room.
He made himself stop thinking about Wilbert’s Little and forced his attention back to the group.
In her no-nonsense manner, Jayne explained the rules, and they dispersed quickly. Some of them dove into the ball pit, others ambled toward the craft station in the corner. Jayne peeled off to help a Little who wanted to join the kitchen play, and Easton resumed his seat. He sat up straight with his arms loosely crossed, projecting calm in a way that always seemed to work better on Littles than on himself.
Then he noticed him.
Off to the far side, near the shoe cubbies, stood a man built like a defensive lineman but curling into himself like he wished he were invisible. He had his right thumb in his mouth, and a ragged grayish-brown bunny squished tight to his chest. His tie-dyed shirt had a cartoon planet on it and was at least two sizes too small.
He must be one from the Butterfly group.
Easton unfurled from his seat and approached slowly. The mats made his steps light.
“Hey there, buddy.” He bent a bit, crouching down to eye level. “What’s your name?”
