Donatti said, “Your birth certificate, your passport, your Social Security card plus about ten grand in cash, two debit cards, and your bank account numbers. You’ve got one account that’s active with about fifty grand in it. You can write checks off of it or use your debit card. The second account is all the paperwork for your custodial account. That’s yours when you’re eighteen. There’s about a hundred grand in it. The last account is paperwork for your trust fund. You’ve got access to it when you’re twenty-one: you’ve got about two mil in that one. The bank’s the trustee. If you need anything before you turn of age, you gotta go to them.

“I don’t know how long fifty grand will keep you, but I’ll be checking in from time to time. If you need more, I’ll know about it and deposit cash into the account. You should be okay.”

Gabe still hadn’t touched the envelope. He nodded.

“Any questions?”

Gabe looked down at the envelope, his lifeline to the world. “Are you leaving the country?”

“Gabe, right now I am so fucked up, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

The admission made him glance at his father before returning his eyes to the windshield. Chris rarely looked healthy, but now he looked exceptionally gaunt. His face was covered by a swatch of blond stubble. His eyes were patriotic—red, white, and blue. Sometimes it was impossible to believe that Chris was only thirty-four. Then there were other times, when his father was cleaned up, off the booze, and had good night’s sleep and proper nutrition; people thought they were brothers.

Donatti said, “I figured the best thing I could do for you was to get your affairs in order in case something happened to me.”

“What would happen to you?” Gabe asked.

Donatti let out a small laugh. “Are you serious?”

Silence.

Donatti said, “Look at me, Gabriel.” When the boy obeyed, he enunciated his sentence word by word. “I…didn’t…kill…her.”

Gabe looked away. “Okay.” Silence. “I believe you.”

“But…” Donatti shoved a fist into his mouth and took it out. “But it’s complicated.”

Silence.

“I came back to the hotel…after Decker left…” A pause. “How’s he treating you?”

“He’s okay.”

“Has he talked to you about me?”

Gabe shook his head no.

“I don’t believe that.”

“I mean he asked me to tell him if I heard from you. But I hadn’t, so…”

“So what do you talk about?”

“With Decker?”

“Yeah, with Decker.”

“Nothing really. If we talk at all, he asks me about Mom. Did she sound upset when I last spoke to her—”

“Did she?”

Gabe looked at his father. “Not really, but I wasn’t paying attention.” His heart was beating in his chest. “What happened, Chris?”