“What?” This was Sawyer’s groggy greeting.
“Hey. I know I woke you up, but I need you to come over.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Sawyer’s voice was more alert now, and I could hear him rustling around in the background.
“Jensen would like for you to accompany us to see the doctor.”
I hoped he would be able to pick up on my tone and know that I couldn’t expand much on the reasoning.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Jensen asked for you. You saw things and will be able to answer any questions the doctor has. Questions that Anna won’t be able to answer.”
“Okay, I’ll be over. I need about fifteen minutes.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re definitely talking later.”
“Of course.”
I ended the call with Sawyer and set the phone on the bench beside me.
“Is he coming?” Jensen asked.
“Yes. He’ll be here in about twenty minutes and then we’ll go.”
Jensen nodded and leaned over his knees. I recognized the signs of neglect and abuse that Aria’s siblings had endured, and it reminded me of my own suffering. I had it in me to help them progress forward because God knew their mother wasn’t going to help them.
“I was a lot like you and your siblings, Jensen.”
He turned his head and looked at me through his dangling bangs. His eyes weren’t untrusting, but they weren’t quite ready to believe me either.
“My father put a lot of marks on me too.” I pushed the sleeve of my sweater up to my elbow and pointed to a raised scar on the back of my left forearm. Jensen sat up straight. Seeing evidence was what he needed.
“This is from him. He was drunk and yelling while waving around a knife. I was good at hiding things, but I had a best friend who always knew. He always offered his ear to me. He always listened to me. He always let me lean on him and cry on him. I was about your age when he found out aboutotherstuff my father had been doing.”
My hope was that Jensen would know what “other” stuff I was referring to. I knew he should, based on what Sawyer and Taylor had already told me in texts.
“He wanted to kill my father. He even took a few swings at him. Many times, my friend was over at my house when my father was drunk and trying to hit me. And nearly every single one of those times, my friend pulled me out from my father’s reach. He put himself in the direct line of my father’s rage.”
“Sounds like a really good friend.”
“He is.”
“You guys are still friends?”
“We are. We’re very close.” I picked up my phone and scrolled through my pictures to our high school graduation. I held it out so Jensen could see. “I’m on the left, and Sawyer is on the right. He’s my best friend.” Jensen leaned forward to look closer.
“Mr. Sawyer?” For the first time since he’d been here, I saw something other than darkness in Jensen’s eyes. Hope shined brightly.
I nodded. “Yes. Though I just call him Sawyer.” Jensen smiled—the kid could smile! I bumped him with my elbow, and he started to laugh. “You can call him Sawyer. Mr. Sawyer sounds formal, and it’ll make his head swell bigger than it already is.” Jensen nodded. “Besides, I have a feeling that you and Sawyer are already friends.”
“I hope so. I haven’t had a friend other than Alek. He understands without me having to say anything.”
“Sawyer is the perfect friend for you, Jensen. I sent him and Taylor to save you for a reason.”
I looked out the window beside the front door as Sawyer’s black Range Rover pulled up.
