Page 69 of The Silence Between

“I thought the same.” Marcus met my eyes with meaningful directness. “But I think it would probably take it better coming from you than me.”

The implication was clear. Whatever complicated dance Leo and I were doing, we had a connection that might allow me to deliver this warning in a way he'd actually hear. It would inevitably push us beyond our carefully negotiated professional collaboration into something more personal, but there wasn't really a choice.

“I'll talk to him,” I promised, feeling like I was making a bigger commitment than just passing along information.

* * *

Second Chapter Bookstore'sbell chimed softly as I entered, and I immediately noticed how different the place looked since my last visit. Shelves had been rearranged to create better browsing flow, themed collections scattered throughout rather than segregated by rigid categories. Leo's influence was already visible.

Leo stood behind the counter, explaining something to a customer about special ordering procedures. He looked different here, more relaxed and confident than I ever saw him at school meetings. This was Leo in his natural habitat, surrounded by books, talking about literature, working in a place that matched his passions rather than just paying the bills.

Eleanor nodded to me from across the store, where she was helping a young mother find picture books. I browsed quietly, waiting until the customer Leo was helping left with a small stack of purchases.

“The place looks great,” I said, approaching the counter. “Your influence already showing.”

Leo glanced up, surprise quickly masked by professional politeness. “Thanks. Just implementing some of Eleanor's ideas we've been discussing for years.” He checked his watch in a not-so-subtle hint. “We're still on for four o'clock to finalize the student showcase details, right?”

“That's why I'm here. Thought I'd come early to see the space changes with the new display areas in mind.”

He nodded, switching into professional mode. “Let me show you what we're thinking for the student work integration.”

For the next hour, we moved through the store discussing placement options for the student writing showcase. Leo explained sight lines and customer flow patterns with surprising expertise, while I contributed ideas about thematic groupings and academic framing. The conversation evolved naturally from strict logistics to broader discussions of making literature accessible to kids from disadvantaged backgrounds.

When he talked about books, Leo transformed. Animation replaced reserve, passionate articulation replaced careful responses, genuine engagement replaced self-protective distance. These glimpses of the real Leo reminded me powerfully of the teenager who'd made me fall hard years ago. Brilliant, insightful, alive with ideas despite circumstances that would have crushed most people.

By the time Eleanor excused herself to handle banking errands, leaving us alone to finalize details, we'd developed a comprehensive plan that actually excited us both. The collaboration had flowed surprisingly well, our different backgrounds creating complementary approaches rather than conflict.

As we finished mapping display locations on the store diagram, I knew I had to bring up the Townsend situation, even though it would probably kill the easy rapport we'd developed over the last hour.

“There's something I should mention,” I said carefully as Eleanor left through the front door. “It's about your family, so it might seem like I'm crossing boundaries, but I thought you should know.”

Leo's posture changed instantly. The relaxed bookstore manager vanished, replaced by the vigilant guardian, alert to potential danger.

“What about my family?”

“James Townsend, the school board president, has been reviewing your siblings' school files. Specifically their custody documentation and social services reports.”

His expression remained controlled, but I could practically see the calculations happening behind his eyes. Threat assessment, implications, response strategies all being processed at lightning speed.

“How do you know this?”

“Marcus told me. He works closely with administration and noticed Townsend's unusual interest in specific students rather than general policy review.”

Leo's fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the counter. “Why would the board president care about my family specifically?”

“He's implementing new 'family stability requirements' for program eligibility,” I explained. “Specifically targeting non-traditional family structures, including sibling guardianship situations.”

Understanding dawned in Leo's expression. “Mari turns twenty-one next month. The custody arrangement automatically comes up for review.”

“That's what Marcus mentioned,” I confirmed. “The timing seems deliberate.”

Leo nodded, already processing implications with the practiced assessment of someone used to navigating systems designed to work against him rather than for him.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said after a moment, the words formal but genuine. “That's... helpful information to have.”

“Is there anything I can do?” I offered, trying not to overstep while also not wanting to just drop bad news and run.

He seemed about to refuse automatically, then paused, reconsidering. “Maybe. I'm not sure yet. I need to talk to our social worker, figure out exactly what this means for the review process.”

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