took him inside.
The converted workshop had the bunk beds, five sets of bedding, low shelves for books and toys, and labeled storage.
Marcus stood in the doorway for a long time.
“You built those?”
“Yes.”
“They’re good.”
“Thank you.”
Then he looked at me.
“You don’t have to do this.”
That surprised me.
I sat on the bottom bunk so we were at the same height.
“No,” I said. “I don’t.”
He watched me.
“But I’m going to.”
“Why?”
“Because you need someone to. Because I can. And because
