involved would make things worse.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I wish someone had shown her that it didn’t have to become a fight.”
I reached for his hand.
“You showed Ethan.”
Owen nodded.
“Yeah.”
Then he fell asleep.
I stayed awake a little longer.
Thinking about a nine-year-old boy in a Spider-Man shirt who made too much noise because he desperately wanted someone to notice him.
And a thirty-eight-year-old man wearing almost the same shirt who finally learned that protecting someone didn’t require becoming loud, angry, or frightening.
