“You told me.”
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
“I tried.”
He shook his head.
“No. You did tell me.”
For a moment, his expression collapsed.
“And I made you feel like you were interfering.”
His mother took his hand.
She didn't deny it.
“You were trying to hold your marriage together.”
Adrian looked toward the examination-room door.
“At his expense.”
Evelyn remained quiet.
He swallowed.
“I kept telling myself he was adjusting.”
His eyes filled.
“Every time he pulled away, I told myself it was grief.”
Evelyn squeezed his hand.
“Adrian, you cannot change the fact that you missed the signs.”
He looked toward her.
“But you can change what you do now.”
For a long moment, he stared.
Then nodded.
The clinician explained the concerns identified during Malik's assessment and recommended a follow-up plan, including appropriate medical and nutritional monitoring.
There were indications that Malik had not been receiving reliable meals.
His recent weight pattern and symptoms needed further attention.
But the doctor didn't present a frightening prediction or suggest that one evening of eating could solve the problem.
The family received specific guidance based on Malik's condition.
Adrian listened carefully.
Asked questions.
Took notes.
And scheduled the next appointment before leaving.
Then Malik asked whether they could stop by Grandma's house.
Adrian nodded immediately.
“Of course.”
The boy hesitated.
“Can I stay there tonight?”
His father felt a sharp ache.
He wanted to say Malik could come home.
That Vanessa wouldn't hurt him again.
That everything would be fine.
But he understood that his son no longer felt safe in the house.
And the fact that Adrian believed he could protect him wasn't enough to erase that fear.
He took a breath.
“Yes.”
Malik looked up.
“Really?”
Adrian nodded.
“Grandma's is fine if that's where you feel comfortable, and we'll make sure everything is arranged safely.”
The boy's shoulders lowered.
For the first time that evening, he appeared to relax.
When they arrived, Evelyn made sure Malik had somewhere quiet to rest.
Adrian sat beside him for a while.
They didn't discuss Vanessa.
Didn't review recordings.
Didn't talk about punishments or lawyers.
Instead, Malik asked whether his basketball team had won the game he'd missed.
Adrian checked.
They had lost by four points.
Malik frowned.
“Coach probably wasn't happy.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
“Probably not.”
For a moment, the boy looked like himself.
Then he turned toward his father.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going back to her?”
Adrian went still.
For a moment, he didn't understand.