Later that night, as the Barnum family retired to bed, Barnum himself interrupted the peaceful slumber with a scream in his sleep. Phillip was by his side in an instant.

And so was Charity.

Phillip watched in helpless silence as Charity woke and soothed the ringmaster - who woke unsteadily, drowsily, babbling in his half-conscious state - her hands on his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks. As his breathing evened, she pulled him into a hug, rocking him back and forth as she would Caroline or Helen.

Barnum buried his face in her shoulder, his nose in her hair. His eyes, still wet with tears, gazed at Phillip, and he whimpered.

Phillip ached to soothe Barnum as Charity was now, to hold him again and let the ringmaster feel his touch. But he knew now that the action would drain his energy, as it did back in the circus tent, for an unknown amount of time, and he held himself back.

Phillip himself was unable to cry, but, as he looked down into a devastated pair of watery, whiskey-colored eyes, he felt the phantom memory of tears roll down his cheeks.