“Daddy… Mommy’s boyfriend hit me with a baseball bat. He said if I cry, it’ll hurt more…”

The way he said it, without raising his voice, without rushing, reminded me of years ago, when I competed and measured every move.

—Marcus… —I began, but I didn’t really know what I was asking for.

Did he want me to stay calm?
To protect Ethan?
To not cross a line I couldn’t undo?

“Relax,” he said, almost in a whisper. “I’m thinking.”

That word, “thinking”, repeated itself in my head as a red light forced me to stop.