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“Mom, I’m transgender.” Danielle’s eyes lit as she stared back at her mother.
Brynn’s eyebrows drew together, her green orbs growing watery. “That means you . . . you’re not a boy, right? It means you are really my daughter?”
Danielle nodded.
Brynn stayed silent for a moment, as if digesting the news. When in similar situations, some parents had suspicions, but for others, they could be in total shock.
Brynn lifted her hand to Danielle’s cheek, softly caressing her skin. “I love you.”
Danielle jumped from her seat, then wrapped her arms around her mother, and Aaron breathed a sigh of relief.
“What does this mean for me? What do we need to do?” Brynn asked, pulling back, then turning to him.
He pointed to the manila folder. “In here are some pamphlets and resources. There are names of some doctors in Boston who specialize in this. They will be able to talk you through your options of possible puberty blockers, hormone therapy, and everything like that.”
Brynn’s eyes widened as her face fell. Her shoulders turned in again before she grew so still, he wasn’t sure she was breathing. She looked terrified.
“What’s wrong?” Aaron asked.
Danielle turned to her mother, then back to him. “We can’t go to the doctor.”
“Why?”
Brynn’s attention focused on her daughter, brushing the blond hair from her face with a smile full of sorrow. “I don’t have health insurance.”
“Oh, there are a lot of programs available. Maybe the state—”
Brynn shook her head, tears swimming in her eyes.
“We can’t have our names on record,” Danielle offered. “They might find us.”
“David,” Brynn chastised.
Danielle faced her mother. “I trust Mr. Ridley, Mom. If anyone can help us, it’s him.”
So they were hiding from something—someone. Aaron’s heart thudded. He hated to think of someone hurting either of them.
“Are you in danger?” he asked Brynn.
Getting to her feet, she shook her head. “No, I, uh, I don’t . . . We better go. Thank you for your time.”
“Brynn.”
She stopped, looking at him.
He stood, reaching out and holding his hands open at his sides. “I just want to help. Whatever you tell me doesn’t leave this room. I promise.”
“Just tell him, Mom,” Danielle pressed.
Brynn searched his eyes, as if struggling with the decision. “We’re safe now. But if our names were put into any legal database, we might not be. I’ll figure something out.”
She picked up the manila folder and wrapped her arm around Danielle. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Ridley.”
Aaron’s heart raced. I must make her see reason. His gaze flicked to Danielle—the teen who reminded him of Emmanuel now more than ever in his mannerisms and his expressions. His brother had tried to end his life before he came out as trans. And then once Emmanuel told their parents, his mental health spiraled from their reaction. Because he didn’t get the help he needed. Aaron couldn’t let Danielle become a statistic—not when he could help her.
“Queer youth who don’t get the support and resources they need are at higher risk for homelessness, drug abuse—”
Brynn shook her head and tightened her grip around Danielle, ushering her out the door.
