Oliver allows me to cradle his hand in mine while I dust my thumb over the divots of his marred knuckles, dragging him out of his comfort zone and encouraging him to trust another human. I inhale with a deep, shaky swallow, swept up in the powerful notion that this hand was what prevented a horrifying nightmare from unfolding. And then I’m stunned, frozen to the navy comforter, when Oliver releases my hand and lifts his own to the side of my face. I remain still, breathless and speechless, my eyes following his hand as it connects with my cheek, his index finger extending and drawing an
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