Page 50 of What We Don't Say: Part One

“It is,” Idris says, voice low. “You’ve been answering us. Nods. Touch. Looking where you want to go. Tapping Callie’s wrist. That tells me you’re staying with us.” He sits on the edge of the coffee table, close but not crowding, and holds Theo’s gaze. “It also tells me we need another way to hear you if your voice locks and your hands are full.”

Theo’s eyes flick to the cards.

“We’ll keep the cards,” Idris says. “We’re adding colors. Green means yes or keep going. Yellow means slow down, pause, or check. Red means stop now. You can say the color, tap it, point to something red or yellow or green, or use your fingers.”

Garrett uncrosses his ankle and leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “That is a good system.”

Theo looks at him.

Garrett gives him a small nod. “Clear. Simple. Everyone can follow it.”

The approval settles Theo a little. I see it in the way his grip on Callie’s hand loosens, the way his shoulders stop trying to climb.

Idris holds up one finger. “One tap can mean green, if that still feels right.”

Theo nods.

Idris holds up two fingers. “Two for yellow.”

Theo’s gaze drops to his own hand. He lifts it, then taps the cushion twice.

The entire room stops.

Not freezes. Stops.

I pull my hand back from Callie’s knee, even though I had only just set it there. Callie goes still beside him, her body soft butunmoving. Idris nods once, accepting the signal like Theo has handed him something precious.

“Good,” Idris says. “That was yellow. We pause.”

Theo looks startled.

I keep my hands to myself. “See? Works.”

His lips part. No sound comes out, but his eyes move around the room. Me, Callie, Idris, Garrett. All of us waiting. None of us annoyed.

Idris holds up three fingers. “Three for red. Practice it once.”

Theo hesitates.

Then he taps the cushion three times.

I sit back immediately. Callie releases his hand. Idris moves off the coffee table and takes one full step back. Garrett shifts away from the edge of the sectional, putting more space between his body and Theo’s line of sight.

Theo’s scent spikes, but it isn't panic. It is recognition.

Red works.

“Good,” Idris says again. “When you tell us to stop, we stop.”

Theo’s eyes shine.

Callie looks like she's trying very hard not to cry.

I want to kiss every inch of both of them for completely different reasons, and I do none of it because red is still in the room until Theo tells us otherwise. I stay back, hands folded between my knees like some kind of reformed menace.

After a few breaths, Theo reaches for Callie again.

She doesn't grab him. She lets him find her fingers.