Darcy stood in front of Micah, tense, unmoving, eyes fixed on the boy like he was trying to see through him. Micah's words echoed in his mind, sharp and clear. The pieces in his head slowly clicked together. The way Micah had acted, the way Leo had appeared out of nowhere asking about him…Micah had probably stumbled on something he shouldn't have.
Darcy's chest tightened. His mind, which had been filled with worry and confusion all this time, finally calmed. But only a little. He let out a long breath and dropped his gaze.
"Micah, I can't always be there to help you…" he said quietly. His voice wasn't harsh, but it wasn't soft either. It was the voice of someone tired, tired and maybe a little scared. "please tone down your mischief."
Micah's face twisted. He looked up at Darcy, and their eyes met for a second.
Darcy flinched.
