Aaron did not resist, but he did not ask questions either, simply following David to the car with the obedient wariness of someone accustomed to being overlooked. During the drive, David glanced at him repeatedly in the mirror, noticing the way Aaron sat very still, hands folded tightly in his lap, eyes fixed on the passing landscape.
When David asked where he came from, Aaron explained that he lived at a group home several miles away and that he had walked there after slipping out through a broken fence. He spoke without drama or complaint, as though escape and hunger were normal facts of life.
David checked them into a quiet hotel nearby, unsure of what else to do until he understood the situation better. Aaron sat in an armchair, still clutching the photograph, his posture small and guarded. David ordered food and placed it on the table, but the boy did not touch it.
“You can eat,” David said gently.
Aaron looked up uncertainly. “Am I allowed?”
The question pierced something deep inside David. He nodded firmly. “Yes. You are.”