Sticky little fingers twisting into my beard.
Chubby brown arms wrapped around my neck.
"Please Nathan?"
He could easily fall asleep, if he'd just lay down.
But I surrender.
He releases me from his hug and I stand up.
I walk him to his room and pull his covers back so he can crawl into bed, then tuck them back snugly under his chin.
I pull a chair into the bedroom doorway and have a seat, clear my throat, and begin to hum.
Somewhere in my low, gravely voice he finds a place where no one gets hurt. Never.
A place where no one calls him names.
And where it doesn't matter that his mom is in prison.
And its in this place he drifts asleep.
And I drift away to another place, too.
To a place where all that matters is these five children feeling safe and secure.
A place where the chaos comes to an end.
Drifting.
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