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Tears still slipped from Nithel’s eyes, but he felt Alessio relaxing. He gave the youth one last squeeze, Nithel’s head pushing against Alessio’s shoulder and neck, more tears falling. He pulled back, hands still on the youth’s arms, just enough to look into Alessio’s eyes. Nithel moved to where he could see them, if that means kneeling, stretching, or just being where he is. He looks into them for a while. “You are loved,” ‘abni. His heart still feels like it is being ripped in two. It’s clear in his eyes. Thinking of his son. “And you are not alone.”

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