“And I should’ve known you wouldn’t listen.”

There was fondness in that exchange, and something like grief.

I couldn’t reconcile either with the eight weeks of lies.

At the hospital, a nurse treated Toby’s abrasions and checked him for dehydration and cold exposure.

Gavin underwent imaging for his injured leg.

We learned he had a fracture that would need careful treatment, but no injury the doctors then considered life-threatening.

Only when the boys were in separate beds, with blankets wrapped around their shoulders and food finally in front of them, did Brenda and I insist on hearing the truth.