Wayne’s gesture is sweet. It has a protective quality to it—not protective in the way Cam has ever been protective, but in a way that a father might be, or an elder brother. The loneliness that has gnawed at Pal, with its chaser of sheer helplessness, dissipates a little. “Invisibility would have been helpful,” he concedes, the corner of his mouth (Cam’s mouth) turning upward. “The animal thing might be, too. I’m mostly hoping they’ll find you so inconceivable that they won’t know what to do with you.”

“No offense.”