Ossie is so fond of him. Not for anything Dimitri tries to do, or be, but for the things that come as naturally as breathing. Things Dimitri would afford no thought, wouldn't even notice, if not for Ossie's delight in them. My dear boy, Ossie says, and for one quiet moment that's the loudest thing Dimitri can hear.

He buries a sliver of a sob in Ossie's shoulder. He's not letting go until Ossie does.