When my shadow moved across the floor near him, something in his shoulders drew in — a small, quick bracing, there and gone.

I did not reach for him.

I did not ask him a single hard question in the middle of a bright, loud gym.

I just held still, and kept my voice low and even, and let him decide whether to look at me.

“You don’t have to be afraid here,” I said.

“And if there’s ever anything you need to tell somebody — I’m somebody who believes you.” I don’t know yet what this boy is carrying, if anything, or whether it’s a story or nothing at all.