Page 90 of The Silence Between

“Excellent,” he said, inviting himself in and taking a seat. “That's precisely why I stopped by. I've received concerning reports about the Reyes household that may be relevant to your review.”

Leo's hand tightened on the folder, knuckles whitening, but his voice remained steady. “What specific concerns, Mr. Townsend? And from what verified sources?”

The direct question clearly caught Townsend off guard. He'd expected defensive justification, not calm inquiry. “Well, for one, Miguel has shared concerning observations about unsupervised periods and limited resources.”

“Miguel Reyes surrendered custody voluntarily after multiple CPS interventions,” I interjected, unable to remain silent. “He's currently in violation of the supervised visitation agreement by approaching the children while intoxicated.”

Damien's eyebrows rose. “Is there documentation of these violations?”

Leo calmly extracted a paper from his folder. “Police report from Tuesday evening. Officer Miller responded to a disturbance call when Miguel appeared at our apartment building intoxicated, making threats and demands to see the children.”

Townsend's expression soured. “Single incidents don't invalidate a father's concern for his children being raised in a non traditional household by a barely adult brother.”

“Mr. Reyes has been the legal guardian for ten years,” Damien pointed out. “The children's educational records, which I've reviewed, show consistent attendance, appropriate academic progress, and regular engagement with teachers and counselors. Ms. Reyes has been accepted to Northwestern University on scholarship. These are not indicators of a concerning home environment.”

“There are questions of resource adequacy,” Townsend persisted. “The apartment is barely sufficient for four people. Mr. Reyes works multiple jobs, leaving the children without proper supervision.”

Leo remained remarkably composed, though I could see the cost of that control in the tension through his shoulders. “The inspection report, which you'll find on page twelve of the materials I provided, confirms our housing meets all legal requirements. Regarding supervision, Mari is twenty years old and a legal adult. When both of us are working, appropriate childcare is arranged for the younger children.”

The systematic dismantling of Townsend's arguments continued for another twenty minutes. Each concern raised was met with documented evidence refuting the implication, each insinuation answered with factual correction. The coordinated approach, Leo addressing specific family details while I provided educational context and Damien highlighted relevant legal standards, created a comprehensive defense impossible for Townsend to penetrate.

When he finally recognized his efforts were failing, Townsend retreated to procedural territory. “I merely wanted to ensure all relevant information was considered in the review process. The board has a responsibility to ensure children's welfare in our district.”

“The board also has a responsibility to follow established protocols and avoid conflicts of interest,” Damien replied, his tone professional but leaving no room for argument. “Given the questions raised about your involvement in this case, I'll be recommending the review return to standard annual assessment procedures rather than continuing on an accelerated track.”

Townsend's jaw tightened, but he maintained his composed facade. “Of course. Standard procedures. I trust you'll still give appropriate consideration to the father's expressed interest in reconnection.”

“All legally submitted requests will be considered according to established protocols,” Damien confirmed, effectively dismissing him without directly doing so.

After Townsend left, the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. Damien reviewed next steps with us, confirming the accelerated review would be suspended pending standard annual assessment, and providing clear documentation of the procedural requirements should anyone attempt to circumvent them in the future.

As we left the building, Leo exhaled slowly, some of the rigid control leaving his body. “We couldn't have done this alone.”

The simple acknowledgment, coming from someone who had insisted on doing everything alone for a decade, felt monumental. “You don't have to,” I replied, equally simple.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the municipal plaza as we walked toward my car. Not touching, not explicitly acknowledging the undercurrents between us, but somehow more connected than if we had been.

“I've been thinking,” Leo said after a comfortable silence. “Would you want to walk by the old railroad bridge tonight? After the kids are asleep.”

The invitation carried weight beyond its simple words. The bridge had been our place once, neutral territory where two boys from opposite sides of Riverton had found common ground. Where we'd first held hands, first kissed, first imagined futures neither of us would actually live.

“I'd like that,” I said, my heart beating a little too fast for the casual response I aimed for.

His small smile told me he heard everything I wasn't saying.

* * *

Stars punctured the darkness overhead,the lights of Riverton reflecting in the river below. Leo walked beside me, close enough that our shoulders occasionally brushed, each brief contact sending electricity through me like I was still seventeen and discovering feelings for the first time.

“Thank you,” Leo said after a comfortable silence. “For today. For everything since you've been back, really.”

“You don't need to thank me.”

“I do.” He turned slightly to face me, moonlight catching in his dark eyes. “My whole life has been about survival for so long that I forgot what it felt like to have someone actually see me. Not just what I do for everyone else, but...me.”

The raw honesty in his voice caught at something deep in my chest. “I've always seen you, Leo. Even when I was trying to forget you.”

He looked back toward the river, profile sharp against the night sky. “I thought I was protecting the kids by handling everything alone. Building walls to keep out anything that might threaten what little stability we had.” His finger traced the semicolon on his wrist, the gesture I now recognized as his unconscious self soothing mechanism. “But walls keep things out that might actually help too.”

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