It took her by surprise. He was so strong—so stoic. Seeing Michael crying silently in the dark in a hospital bed surprised her as much as it would to find her father the same way.

She pulled the lever to drop the railing on her side of the bed and sat beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” She put a hand on his arm gently, unsure he’d welcome her touch.

He unwound his arms and pulled her closer. It put his face against her shoulder, his arms tight around her back. She could feel him shaking. The only other person who ever clung to her like this was James, after the really terrifying nightmares.

Only this wasn’t a nightmare.

“I don’t know where they are,” Michael said, his voice thick with emotion. “They wouldn’t tell me where they were taking them.”

Hannah drew back enough to speak. “They wouldn’t tell you? Don’t they have to?”

“No. Said it was safer if I didn’t know.” He pulled back and seemed to gather himself a bit. “I’ve spent five years drilling it into their heads that I have to know where they are, and now it’s the middle of the night and I have no idea.” He glanced at the side table, then at the door. “I don’t have a phone. I can’t even call—”

“Shh. It’s okay. They’re okay.” She stroked a hand down his face.

“I promised them, Hannah.” His voice was rough and harsh and the pain in his words almost hurt her ears. “I promised I wouldn’t let anyone take them away. And now—”

“You didn’t fail them, Michael.”

“I did.” He put his face in his hands again. “I did.”

“No. You didn’t.”

His voice took on a panicked edge. “What if I can’t get them back? What if the judge says no?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Don’t you know what happens in those kinds of places?” He dropped his hands and looked at her. His eyes were shining in the darkness. “If someone picks a fight with Gabriel—if someone finds out Nick is g*y—” Another shaky breath. “And Chris. Chris hates me for this.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He’s so young sometimes—” Michael shook his head. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“He’s afraid.”

Michael gave a laugh that was more of a sob. “That makes me feel better. Thanks.”

She found his hand and held it. “They’re together. They’ll take care of each other.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. They barely left each other to go to the bathroom.”

Michael turned his head to look at her. “When?”

“Last night.”

“Where were they last night?”

“Here. Well, downstairs.”

He looked bewildered. “Wait. They weren’t at Adam’s?”

“No. They came here as soon as they heard. Hunter, too. And Layne and Simon and Adam.”

“All night? They were sitting down there alone all night—”

“I stayed with them. They were okay.”

Michael stared at her. His voice was soft with something like shame. “You didn’t have to do that, Hannah.”

“Your brothers were ready to climb the walls.” She brushed another finger across his cheek, pulling a stray tear away. “Consider it a public service.”

“What about James?”

“He stayed with my mom. He’s all right. I went home for dinner and his bedtime story.” She didn’t mention that she’d had to wait for her father to fall asleep before she could sneak out again. She’d sent her mom a text message so she wouldn’t worry, and hoped the woman would run interference if her dad decided to pitch a fit.

“I’m sorry you had to waste your time here.”

“They’re your brothers, Michael. It wasn’t a waste of time.” She paused. “I was worried about you, too. No one would tell us anything.”

“I’m all right.”

Said the man crying in the dark. She stroked a hand across his cheek again, feeling the beard growth there. He bowed his head and leaned into her touch. He always took her by surprise in these moments when he was quiet and passive, like an untamed lion that would only settle in her presence.

“I should leave so you can get some sleep,” she said.

He shook his head. “I don’t think I can sleep.” He rubbed his hands down his face, catching her hand in his own, holding it against his face. “Every time I close my eyes, I see too many things.”

She didn’t mention that he’d seemed asleep when she’d walked in here—but then again, he’d startled so easily. “Do you think you could lie down? Rest?”

“No, I—no.” His breath shook again, just a little. He kept a grip on her hand as if he worried she’d leave him here.

“Try,” she said. “If you don’t sleep, you won’t heal.” She kicked off her shoes and leaned back against the pillows, giving his hand a tug. “Lie down. I’ll rest with you.”

After a moment, Michael shifted to lie beside her. He pulled his hand free to stroke her hair back from her face. His fingers were warm against her cheek. After a moment, he shifted closer, until his forehead rested against hers.

She thought he might kiss her, but he didn’t. Somehow this was more intimate, lying in the dark, dried tears on his cheeks and trust in his eyes. She was seeing a side of him that he didn’t often show. To anyone.