Page 89 of The Silence Between

“I could sell my drawings at the bookstore,” Sophie added earnestly. “Eleanor said they were good enough.”

Leo's face softened with pride and something like wonder. “I appreciate all of those offers. But Mari, you're going to Northwestern on schedule. Diego, you're keeping baseball. And Sophie, while I'd love to see your art in the bookstore, it's not your job to support this family.”

“Then what's the plan?” Mari asked.

Leo glanced at me, then back to his siblings. “For starters, accepting help when it's offered from people we trust. Ethan's offered a loan for the deposit until your scholarship funds come through.”

Diego's eyebrows shot up. “Just like that? Why?”

The question hung in the air between us, demanding honesty but loaded with potential complications. Leo answered with remarkable steadiness.

“Because sometimes people help each other without expecting anything in return. Because community means supporting one another through hard times. And because Ethan and I have a history of caring about each other's wellbeing.”

The simple truth, neither exaggerating our connection nor diminishing it, seemed to satisfy Diego. Mari, however, was watching us both with far too much perception in her dark eyes.

“And Ethan's going to keep helping with the Townsend situation?” she asked, the question carrying layers beneath its surface.

“If that's okay with all of you,” I said, speaking directly to the siblings. “I care about what happens to your family.”

Sophie’s directness, cut to the heart of it. “Do you care about Leo specially, or all of us the same?”

I felt heat rise in my face, but forced myself to meet her gaze. “I care about all of you. But yes, I care about Leo specially. We've known each other a long time.”

She nodded, apparently satisfied. “That's good. He needs somebody to care about him specially. He's always taking care of us.”

The simple observation, delivered without artifice, landed like a stone in still water, ripples spreading outward. Leo cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with being discussed in the third person.

“The point is, we're going to handle things differently going forward. More honestly with each other. More willing to accept help when we need it. And more as a team instead of me trying to carry everything alone.”

As the discussion continued into specific plans and schedules, I watched the Reyes family with something close to awe. They'd been carrying impossible burdens for years, yet somehow maintained this core of resilience, this ability to face hard truths together and keep moving forward.

And now, perhaps for the first time, they weren't facing it completely alone.

* * *

The districtlegal offices occupied the third floor of a gray municipal building, all fluorescent lighting and identical doors labeled with unmemorable names and titles. Leo and I arrived together but maintained professional distance in the sterile hallway, allies but not explicitly announcing anything beyond that.

The meeting had been scheduled to review custody procedures and address concerns about the accelerated timeline. Damien Holloway, the district legal counsel who'd intervened during the school confrontation, had agreed to meet with us to discuss appropriate protocols for the continuing review.

“Ready?” I asked quietly as we approached his office.

Leo nodded, his expression composed once more, though I could see the cost of that composure in the tightness around his eyes. “As I'll ever be.”

The office beyond the door surprised me with unexpected personality: plants thriving on the windowsill, walls lined with legal texts interspersed with novels, a desk organized but not rigidly so. Damien rose to greet us, gesturing toward chairs arranged for conversation rather than interrogation.

“Mr. Reyes, Mr. Webb. Thank you for coming.” His professional tone carried an undercurrent of genuine concern. “I've reviewed the documentation you submitted regarding the custody arrangement and the recent accelerated review notices.”

Leo sat with perfect posture, the folder of materials we'd prepared together held in steady hands. “We appreciate your time, Mr. Holloway. Our primary concern is ensuring appropriate procedures are followed, particularly given School Board Member Townsend's unusual involvement.”

For the next thirty minutes, we presented our case methodically: documenting the family's stability despite resource limitations, highlighting the siblings' academic and social development, questioning the procedural basis for an accelerated review outside normal annual assessment timelines.

Damien took notes, occasionally asking clarifying questions that revealed both legal thoroughness and genuine interest in the family's welfare. The meeting was proceeding exactly as we'd planned when the door opened without warning.

Townsend stood in the doorway, his surprise at finding us there quickly masked by forced affability. “Damien, I didn't realize you had a meeting. I was hoping to catch you regarding the Reyes custody situation.”

The casual mention of Leo's family, as if it were just another administrative matter rather than three children's lives and futures, made something hot and dangerous flare in my chest. I felt Leo tense beside me but remain outwardly calm.

“Mr. Townsend,” Damien said, his tone cooling noticeably. “We're in the middle of a scheduled meeting regarding procedural questions about custody assessment protocols.”

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