Chapter 19

In the end, he sits back down on the couch, hands balled in his lap. Brenton brings over a glass of water and hands it to Zeke. He sips it and then puts it on the coffee table, not trusting his stomach yet.

Brenton sits down next to him, closer than he had before. He hesitates before reaching out and pushing Zeke’s slightly sweaty fringe off his forehead. His touch is gentle. It reminds Zeke of his mom when he was sick as a child. It’s clear Brenton’s trying to be nice, to give comfort even though he’s not sure what’s wrong.

“The text…The poem was mine. And I’ll be calling Andy, because in my head, it’s a threat,” Zeke says softly.

“I guessed you must have written it, and blood being mentioned made me think maybe there was a threat in there, if the person who sent it knows what it means to you. I mean, people can interpret poems all kinds of ways,” Brenton says reasonably.