…and a boy who finally understood what safe really meant.
Not soft voices.
Not polite smiles.
Not people who looked the part.
Safe was the man who listened.
That afternoon, Connor didn’t sit in the corner.
He didn’t scan exits.
He didn’t flinch when the door opened.
He sat in the back booth—Preacher’s booth—legs swinging just a little too short …
👇 👇 👇 👇 👇
