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He would let me go.

Of course he fucking would.

And somehow that hurt too. “Max, I didn’t say I wanted to leave.”

The relief that crossed his face was so naked I nearly looked away. “I said I need time to think because there is a truly ridiculous amount of shit in my head right now, and some of it has wings.”

His mouth moved, not quite a smile, and I wasn’t ready for humor yet, but I didn’t hate seeing it.

“Ignatius,” I said. “We talk to him, and this time I hear everything.”

“Everything.”

“No deciding what I can handle.”

“No.”

“No protecting me from answers you don’t like.”

“I promise.”

I looked at the space beside me on the bale, then back at him. He didn’t move. Of course he didn’t. Apparently, even now, he was going to make me choose. I hated him a little for that too.

“Sit down, Max.”

He crossed the barn slowly and lowered himself beside me, leaving enough room that our bodies didn’t touch.

For several seconds, I stared at that narrow gap.

Then I closed it.

My shoulder rested against his, and the breath he released was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. He didn’t reach for my hand or put an arm around me, and he didn’t take the tiny piece of comfort I’d offered and turn it into permission for anything else.

He simply sat with me.

It wasn’t forgiveness, and it wasn’t an answer. I didn’t even know whether it was trust yet.

But it was my choice.

My phone rang.

The ordinary sound cut through the quiet so abruptly that both of us stiffened, and for a couple of seconds neither of us reacted. Then I pulled it from my pocket and saw the words Unknown Number glowing on the screen.

Every muscle in my body tightened.

Dad.

It was always possible with him. New phones, borrowed phones, numbers I blocked only to have another one appear a week later.

Beside me, Max had gone very still.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

I stared at the screen, knowing that two hours ago I might have let it ring until it stopped. Except I was so fucking tired of running. “No. I do.”

I answered. “Hello?”

The man who spoke wasn’t my father, and relief came so quickly that I almost missed what he said next.