He nodded with complete seriousness.
“A lot.”
Then he lifted his face toward me.
His smile disappeared.
At first, I assumed he had remembered something he had done wrong. Bennett had a very recognizable guilty expression. His eyes widened, his lips tightened, and the floor suddenly became fascinating.
But this was different.
The color drained from his face.
His voice shook.
“Please don’t go into my room.”
I stared at him, then laughed lightly, thinking he must have made a terrible mess while I was gone.
Once, Bennett had constructed an entire cardboard city across his bedroom floor and colored half the wall blue because, according to him, every city required a sky.
“What happened? Did you draw on the walls again?”
He shook his head so violently that tears appeared in his eyes.
“No.”
The fear in his voice erased my smile.
He glanced anxiously toward the hallway.
“I promised I wouldn’t let anyone in.”
I frowned.
“Promised WHO?”
