He could have. He wanted to. The delicacy of Shannon's bones, the thinness of his skin, seemed terrible and exquisite to Felix in that moment. He could have unleashed his anger in a destructive tempest, confirming that the life he'd built in the last three years truly was nothing but a lie, and that the hard-eyed boy from those photos was Felix's real, true self.

Instead, he shoved Shannon back in his chair, and without a word, turned on his heel for the door. The answer to Shannon's question remained an unqualified yes. But Felix did not need fists to hurt him.