For the first time since we’d begun, he smiled.

He asked whether I liked peanut-butter cookies, whether I had any pets, and whether I knew how to ride a bicycle without holding the handlebars.

The questions came in uneven bursts, then stopped.

At last he slid down from the couch and went to get his rocket kit.

“I need to think,” he said seriously.

“That’s okay,” Lauren replied.

He disappeared upstairs, leaving us in a silence that felt both hopeful and frightening.

I had imagined tears or a hug.