I looked at him in the cold moonlight, frail and small and scared, and the thousand questions that had come thronging around me every time I looked at him since Christmas melded and fused and shrank until there was really only one. “Oliver?” “Yes,” I said, that single word accepting everything at once. I couldn’t remember when he’d started crying, but tears glistened on his cheeks. He stared at me, mistrustful and confused.
