“You feel me? What do you mean?” She shrugged again. “Just . . . you. Kinda like I can feel you next to me without looking at you. You’re warm and you’re big and you smell clean.” “Huh,” he grunted. He thought of the colors from his childhood, the hues that surrounded different people, and trying to describe it to his mother. “Do you believe me, Malone?” she asked. “Yeah, Dani,” he whispered. “I guess I do.”
