I cried out, falling to my knees as my eyes came level with his. My heart broke as I looked at him. He was only a child, younger even than when I had first met him. My hand flew to my mouth as I sobbed, his blue eyes growing wide at my reaction.
“It’s okay,” his little voice was soft as he placed his small hand on my shoulder. “Are you hurt? I can make it all better; my mommy says I am very good at making things all better.” He smiled widely, his mop of curls bouncing.
I just shook my head no.
“Are you scared then? I get scared sometimes. The cook, Marie, taught me a song about whistling that takes the scares away. Do you want to hear it?”
I shook my head no; there were fewer tears, now. I was gaining control, trying desperately to ignore the heartbreak.
“I’m... just... sad...” I choked out.
“Why?”
“I lost someone very important to me, someone I love.”
“Who?”
“My very best friend.”
“Oh.” He paused and dug his toe into the ground. “I don’t have any friends. You can be my friend if you would like.” He was so eager, so much like he had been that first day when we had met.
“I would like that very much.”
“I’m Ryland.” He stuck out his hand; I took it eagerly, expecting something to happen, my heart breaking when nothing did.
“Joclyn.”
“What a funny name,” he giggled, his body shaking.
I couldn’t even bring myself to smile.
Ryland looked at me with all the innocence, all the sparkly-eyed, new-world wonderment a youngchild has—a child who has known no pain and felt no heartbreak.
“You have very pretty eyes,” he said softly. “They look like diamonds.”