Lucy didn’t contradict her, but she doubted that bad luck had anything to do with it. Something was seriously wrong in the Stanton household and Lucy was determined to find out what it was before it grew out of control and engulfed the whole neighborhood.

“Tell me about Tommy, if you can,” said Lucy, remembering her job and pulling out her notebook.

“Well,” began Bonnie, “Buck says he’s a bit of a loner…”

The words sent a chill up her spine. How often had she heard them used to describe a killer, some sociopath who’d gone on a murder spree? Was Tommy like that? Had he killed his mother as the result of some stupid argument and then been so filled with remorse that he killed himself?

Lucy couldn’t shake that thought as she retraced her steps down Prudence Path and along the winding path through the lilacs to home. Teenagers were so emotional and so unpredictable, and movies and video games were so permeated with violence that it was no wonder they reached for a knife or gun when frustrated. Lucy had heard of instances where teens killed parents for refusing to allow them to attend a rock concert, or for making them go to church. And then there were the school shootings that seemed to occur with sickening regularity ever since Columbine. She was convinced that all this youthful anger was a symptom that something was wrong, but she wasn’t sure exactly what. Maybe teenage boys should be sent off to live in a hut with tribal elders until they were deemed fit to marry and assume their place in society, as was the custom with some primitive tribes. There were certainly times when she’d wished she could hand her own son, Toby, off to some wise shaman who would teach him the secrets of manhood. Bill had certainly tried, but like most kids, Toby had found it hard to take advice from his father when his father was the very same person he was trying to separate himself from in order to establish his own identity.

There had to be a better way than the present system of intense peer pressure in high school combined with the stress of academics and college admission, she thought, as she climbed the porch steps and went into the kitchen. A minute or two later Willie’s car turned into the drive and Sara climbed out. “What’s going on?” Sara asked, bursting into the kitchen. “There’s a police car at Tommy’s house.”

Lucy took a deep breath. “Tommy tried to kill himself.”

Sara was stunned. Her mouth dropped and she sat staring straight ahead, speechless. Lucy felt like kicking herself for not taking a gentler approach.

“I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that,” she said, squeezing her daughter’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

Sara’s eyes widened. “Is he dead?”