“Please, arrest me. I’d rather go to jail than go back to that house…”

minute, the defensive tension bled out of his small frame. Leo cautiously lowered his hands, squeezed his eyes shut, and leaned his entire, slight weight into my warmth, burying his face in my shoulder. It was a painstaking, two-steps-forward-one-step-back process. But he was slowly internalizing the incredible revelation that a raised hand in this continue reading …