Julian came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“He’s fast asleep,” he whispered.

“He’s safe,” I said.

And I let the word rest there in the dark hallway, because it was the only word that had ever really mattered, the word I had failed to guarantee on one terrible night and had spent every day since earning back.

Safe.

Not wealthy, not comfortable, not surrounded by gates and gardens and central heat.

Safe, in the one way that counts, which is that the people around him would open the door.