He nodded jerkily. “Can I go play video games for a little while?”
“Sure,” she answered. “But only one hour, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” He took off for the stairs.
I understood. He needed time alone to process. Maybe he didn’t want to let the tears fall in front of us. I’d give him that space, but I’d be checking on him in an hour. Because if there was one thing I wanted Justin to be sure of, it was that he wasn’t alone.
“What about you, Lyla Bean? What do you want to do?” Anna asked.
“Can I watch a movie?”
“Sure. Where do you want to do it?”
“In my room. I can set it up.”
Anna studied Lyla’s face. “You sure you don’t want me to help?”
Lyla shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Love you big time,” she whispered.
“Love you, too,” Lyla mumbled and pushed off the couch to head upstairs.
When she disappeared, Anna leaned back on the cushions of the couch and pinched the bridge of her nose. I couldn’t stop myself from going to her. I sat down next to Anna and pulled her against me. She went willingly, letting her head fall to my chest. “What are we going to do?”
I slipped my hand under her hair, massaging her neck and scalp. “I think we need to call Walker and Keisha and see what our options are. I’d like to get a restraining order, but I don’t think we have enough justifiable reason.”
Anna straightened. “He hit Justin. That should be more than enough.”
My hands fell away. “It should be. But there was no documented proof. All we have is Justin’s testimony. Do you want to put him through that?”
Her shoulders slumped. “No. I don’t. I just feel like there are no good options.”
“We keep fighting. I think there’s enough stacked on our side that we’ll win this. It’s just going to take time.”
Anna pressed the bridge of her nose again. “I don’t know how long I can keep this up.”
I gently pulled her hand away from her face. “Another headache?”
“Yeah. I’ve been getting them like crazy.”
“Come here.” I grabbed one of the throw pillows and put it on my lap. “Lay down.”
Anna hesitated for a moment and then obliged. That was how I knew it was bad—that she went so willingly. I massaged her temples and forehead, the top of her scalp.
“Give me your hand.”
Her eyes flew open. “Why?”
“Trust me, okay?”
She paused again but slowly lifted her hand to me. I took it, pressing hard on a spot in the juncture between her thumb and pointer finger.
“Ow,” she groused.
“Just stay with me for a few more seconds.” I held it for a count of sixty and then released. “How do you feel now?”
She opened her mouth and then shut it, eyes widening. “So much better. How did you learn that?”
