Donny had his working file on Slider’s case on the table in front of him, which was as thick as a couple of dictionaries stacked on top of each other. He put his hand on it.

“I don’t need to tell you I have a lot invested in this case. Enough to be very close to getting the outcome we all want.”

“You’ve told us that before, Donny,” said Xelina.

“It’s closer this time,” said Donny. “For real. Trial is set for next month. I have finally found real evidence of AMR’s complicity in the killings at the resettlement farms. At least the Killeen camp. Including Juana and Gil. This could bring the company down. We’ll get to dissolve it, liquidate the assets, and pay them out to the families of all those who died or were injured behind the wire. Or that was the plan, until Monday, when the defense lawyers sprang their trap on me: Slider is dead. Killed during an op.”

Clint sipped his coffee, watching Xelina. She had her soldier face on, but you could see the sad welling up.

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be,” said Donny. “He’s y’all’s nephew. You’re the closest thing he has to parents, and he’s the closest thing you have to a child. It’s too late to save him, but maybe not too late to keep his case alive. And to do that I need to figure out what really went down.”

Clint took Xelina’s hand and held it. He looked even more emotional about the subject than her.

Donny looked at their hands.

Both had the scars of fighters who had been members of the resistance and been detained by the old regime. Her scars were finer than his, but older, and maybe deeper.

“Who did he piss off?” said Donny. “I know it’s hard to talk about. But if I can put the real story together, I just might be able to convince the judge to give me a break. Or, failing that, get justice from whoever took him out.”

“Daryl was an angry kid,” said Clint. “He pissed off a lot of people.”

“I know,” said Donny. “I helped him get away with the things he did in the struggle.”

“Can’t I substitute for him in your case?” said Xelina. “Juana was my sister.”

“Not in the eyes of the law, Xelina,” said Donny. “You may have shared a house as kids, but there are no ties of blood or marriage. Nothing that will support you standing in as the injured party.”

“Fuck the law and its bullshit ideas of what makes a family,” said Clint.

“I agree. And we may have a chance to change that yet. But not in time to save my case. I need answers.”

“You should leave it alone, dude,” said Clint. “You need to come up with another angle.”