Page 71 of You Fall First

“No, thank you,” he squeaks. Still being polite. He might as well twist the knife of guilt in my chest a little more.

“You want to watch Toy Story?” I offer. Another lame gesture.

“I want Miss Jo,” he whimpers.

“I’m right here,” she says, entering the room. “And I was thinking I could bring new crayons in the morning, and we can draw pictures of whatever you want to do all day. We’ll make a crayon plan.”

Her voice is gentle, and her instincts are better than mine by a mile. When she comes closer, I almost fall to my knees and beg her to make everything right.

“That sounds pretty great, right, Dutton?”

He rolls over onto his back, still clutching Bugs. “No.”

“Hey, now.” I crouch beside the bed. “If we want Miss Jo to come back tomorrow, we need to be kind.”

“No,” he says flatly.

Jo draws in a gust of air.

My gaze flashes to hers. “He’s just upset.” It’s an obvious excuse, but the best I’ve got.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I should go.”

“Jo.” I rise from the floor.

“I’m sorry.” She backs toward the door. “I’ll let myself out.”

“Nooooo!” Dutton shrieks. The poor kid is miserable, and I’m dying to help him, but Jo’s miserable now, too. My heart splits down the middle, and the fracture is … not good.

“Don’t come back tomorrow,” he blubbers, pausing for a deep, shuddering breath. “Stay nowwwww.”

Jo freezes in the doorway.

My spine goes rigid.

So that’s what he meant.

“Please,” he sniffles, blinking up at us. “Stay.”

Jo’s eyes dart to me, and our gazes hold for a beat.

“You don’t have to,” I tell her.

“Yes,” Dutton pleads.

“But you can,” I say.

Jo nods, then moves to his bedside slowly.

“Should I stay for dinner?” She tips her chin, slips one brow into an arch. “I promise not to steal any of your chicken nuggets.”

“Not for dinner.” Dutton shakes his head and hiccups. “Forever.”

Forever?

Jo startles. “I … don’t think … it’s just that … I have a house … where I live. You’ve been there, remember? We had spaghetti.”

He props himself on an elbow, and Bugs flops off him onto the bed. “This could be your house.”