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Summary
There are hands around his arms anyway and for once, he's glad someone didn't wait for an invitation. Abby's perfume is feminine and warm, cinnamon and apples, so different from the alcoholic fumes he smelled on his mother and on Josh. Abby pulls him into her embrace until his head rests safely on her shoulder, puts one gentle hand on the back of his head and the other on his arm, whispering words of comfort that he can't even comprehend. He wonders if that's what it feels like to have a mother. Then, he wonders if Abby ever would have hugged him like this if he hadn't been raped.