Joshua waits for the corridor to empty before slipping through the side door to the back garden where he knows he’ll find you. You aren’t allowed in the front gardens since people might see you, but it’s never seemed to bother you. Joshua’s face brightens when he finds you seated on a stony bench with a book in hand. “You always read the ones with sad endings,” he comments, his voice tentative but clear as he trots over to you, brushing dust from his puffy sleeves.

His mother made it very clear that he wasn’t to speak to you; he knows that every moment spent in your presence was a betrayal to her. But Joshua knows something else too—his father loves you the way he loves him and Clive. Not more, not less, but just as fiercely. And when Joshua sits down beside you, leaning his little shoulder against yours to peek at your book, it doesn’t feel like betrayal. It feels like he can finally breathe.