He lifted his head the moment she spoke. It was as if he had been waiting for someone to acknowledge his existence, to see him. He stared at her with eyes that carried far too much fear for a child. Eyes that looked like they had forgotten what safety felt like.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please do not leave me here.”
Janessa felt something seismic shift inside her. It was instinct. It was empathy. It was rage disguised as tenderness. She drew him into her arms, pulling him close. His body stiffened at first, unused to comfort, then slowly softened. He pressed his face into her uniform and inhaled like it was the first breath of his life that did not hurt.
“It is alright,” she murmured. “I am here. I am right here.”
He clung to her like she was the last thing tethering him to the world. She could feel every tremor of his small body, every heartbeat like a frightened bird trapped in a cage.