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1
AARON
Aaron Ridley scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat back in the chair behind his gleaming cherry desk. The old photo of his brother, Emmanuel, with his arm around Aaron smiling at the camera caught his eye. Heaviness descended onto his shoulders as it did every year on the same day—the anniversary of Emmanuel’s death.
Aaron closed his eyes, trying to conjure a memory of his brother laughing and smiling, but it was faded and warped. Much like a real photograph would be after overuse.
More than a decade had passed, but Aaron still felt the loss. I wish I could have saved you, E.
His gaze circled his office, skimming over the certificates of philanthropy and his two degrees attached to the rainbow accent wall opposite his desk. The hundreds of overlapping handprints brought a little relief to the tightness in his chest. They belonged to kids he’d been able to help. But for each one he’d taken into his center, there were ten more sleeping under a bridge or trading their bodies for food in their belly or poison in their veins.
Emmanuel’s face popped into his mind again, cold and lifeless, no trace of the horror his brother had faced before he’d taken his last breath. Aaron let out a deep exhale and shook his head, as if he could rid himself of the tragic thoughts.
Knock. Knock.
Aaron cleared his throat and sat straighter in his chair. “Come in.”
David shyly peeked his blond head around the door before he walked in, tucking his shaggy locks behind his ear. The kid reminded him so much of a young Emmanuel it was eerie.
“H-hey, Mr. Ridley. I, um, my therapist said you wanted to see me?”
Aaron motioned to the chair across from him. He forced a smile that he hoped was warm instead of mirroring the sadness that crept in, more so with the stark reminder of the boy who could be Emmanuel’s twin sitting in front of him, except for his skin tone. “Yes, I just wanted to check in with you and see how you were doing. Ms. Silver said you’d had a rough session yesterday.”
David took the seat, crossing his legs neatly and staring at his hands.
“You know anything you share with her is private, unless she fears for your safety.” Aaron waited a beat. He’d learned a lot in his years working with homeless LGBTQ youth. Sometimes these teens needed your silence, and other times they needed a push. David, much like his mother, had seemed scared of his own shadow when he’d arrived in town. But during the last several months in regular visits at Hope Facility, he had come out of his shell.
“Yeah. I just . . .” David’s shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t going to hurt myself. I just had a bad week. Sometimes these thoughts come up in my head—but I’d never act on them.” David shook his head vehemently. “I’d never do that to my mom.”
Aaron leaned in, resting his elbows on his desk. “It’s important that you feel safe here. And it’s my job and Ms. Silver’s job to make sure you get the help you need to thrive. What is it that drives those thoughts? Did something happen this week in particular that made it extra hard?”
David gulped, his attention darting to the small hole in his jeans on his knee. He pressed his finger over it. “I just get tired of pretending sometimes.”
“Pretending what?”
David bit his lip. “I think . . . I need . . . need your help.” He let out a breath and looked up at Aaron. His blue eyes shone with unshed tears and determination.
This was the part Aaron lived for—when he was presented with a problem and had the power to fix it, helping make these youths’ lives just a little easier.
“I’m listening.”
David’s voice broke. “Where I come from, people like the youth here . . . people like me, are punished.”
Aaron’s mind raced. He didn’t have much on the kid in his file. Something told him that Smith wasn’t David’s legal last name. His mother, Brynn, had signed a permission slip, and he wasn’t a live-in boarder like most of the others were. Legally, Aaron didn’t require more details from them. But wanting it was another story. Their mutual friends didn’t seem to know too much either, or what they did know they hadn’t shared with him.
Aaron leaned in, listening intently to any morsels of information David was willing to share. Were he and his mother, Brynn, in trouble?
“When my mom brought me here, it was the first time I’d felt like I could be me.” David blinked, as if trying to clear the tears.
“That’s what we’re here for. You should be able to be you and not worry about your safety.”
David nodded. “This place is so different. Even Shattered Cove is different from where I grew up.”
“Where was that?” Aaron tried to sound as casual as possible.
David’s back straightened, his eyes nervously darting around the room. “Uh, well, out west.”
Aaron nodded. “How can I help you? Are you in danger?”
