When he had finished, he saw that Pip was crying. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Where’s my mommy?”

Spud swallowed hard. It had been a mistake to tell Pip that story. He put his arm around Pip and told the lie that Reed had prepared.

“Your mom… she wanted to marry David.” God damn that Reed. It should have been him out there breaking that little boy’s heart. “Your mom and David… they want to start a new life.”

Pip started to breathe heavily. Spud held him tighter.

“I’m sorry, little buddy, but they wanted to start a new family. They… want your dad to take you from now on.”

Pip had been crying in silence, but now burst into a wail. Spud picked him up and held him. “It’s gonna be okay. Shhh.” He stroked Pip’s hair. “I’ll be here with you. I promise. I’ll take care of you.”

Spud thought back to when he was Pip’s age. Had his father swooped in to take him away from his mother, he would have cried for joy. A memory came to him… coloring in a book, his father at his side. Spud had come home from kindergarten, crying because another child made fun of his poor coloring skills, jutting lines that slashed across the pictures. He had interrupted his mother, who was on the phone, to show her.

“Jesus, that looks like it was done by a monkey.” His mother laughed. She returned to her phone call, telling the person on the other end about the atrocious piece of art. Spud went to his room to sit with the abomination, tears filling his eyes. Why couldn’t he do what the other kids could do?

When Spike came home and found Spud curled up on his bed, he went to work teaching his son how to color. They sat on the floor with a coloring book and Spike drew tiny circles inside the lines. “Just take your time,” his father had said. “When you touch the line move the circle to another spot and fill that in. Use your fingers instead of your hand to move the color.” Spud did what his father told him, and it worked.

Pip seemed to be tiring, the sound of his cry folding in half, then in half again until it was barely more than a whimper. Reed had said that Pip’s mother was cold and neglectful. She beat the boy. Pip needed to be rescued. He and Reed were the good guys.

But what if Reed had lied?

He shook away that thought. Reed’s stories were true, they had to be. Spud had not killed a good person. He had freed Pip from a cruel life. He had to believe that—otherwise, he was the evil one. He was the monster.

Spud hugged Pip tighter and tucked his doubt away, making a mental note. He would press Reed to buy crayons and a coloring book. He could teach Pip to color the way Spike had taught him.