She nodded and lifted her chin toward Duval. “Nice to see you, Duval.”
He answered her with a chin lift of his own, unable to say a thing.
West sat up, stretching his back as Tracy walked away.
When the door closed down the hall with a soft click, West let out a breath.
“Duval?”
“Yeah?” He sat forward, waiting for the answer.
West smiled and cleared his throat. “I don’t have the answer you’re looking for.”
Duval frowned, his brow furrowing. “What?”
West shrugged. “I don’t have the answer.”
Duval’s jaw tensed.
“I don’t even haveananswer.”
His hands fisted until his knuckles began to ache. “What the fuck, man?” His voice was low, hoarse.
”I told you.” West put his hands on his knees and got up from the recliner. “I don’t have an answer for you.”
Duval wanted to spit out a curse.
He wanted to kick something.
Pound his fist into a wall.
It was all anger.
Impotent anger at that.
It wasn’t a feeling that had ever sat well with him.
He wanted to do things.
He wanted to solve things.
He wanted… to be useful.
West walked closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, McCrae.”
Duval frowned at the use of his first name.
West had only called him that… probably one other time, when they’d first met.
“Things like this,” West explained, “don’t have an answer you can find in a book. It’s different for everyone. No one size fits all solutions especially when it comes to children.”
Duval wanted to argue, but he just didn’t have it in him.
The weight that West had been talking about sat heavily on his shoulders and was pressing him down further and further.
“You should go home and take your mind off of it for tonight. Get some sleep. Tomorrow,” West gave him a knowing nod, “is another day.”
Duval recognized the dismissal.
