“The turbo.” He glanced down at Joshua, who was staring up at him with wide eyes. But he didn’t say a word, because Diesel had asked him to be quiet while he was on the phone. What a sweet kid. His mother should have been on her knees thanking God for her sons, not getting high and throwing bowls at their heads. “Michael didn’t do this, which means someone else did. I’m going to do what I always do.”

“Follow the money,” Marcus said grimly.

“Yep.” Because it always came down to that in one way or another. “Also, does Gayle still keep a stash of candy in her desk?”

Joshua’s eyes lit up at that and Diesel smiled down at him, giving him a wink.

“If she doesn’t, I’ll stop by the store and pick some up,” Marcus said. “You want some crayons and stuff, too?”

“Wouldn’t hurt. Thanks, Marcus. See you soon.”

Cincinnati, Ohio
Saturday, March 16, 4:00 p.m.

Michael winced at the ball of fear lodged in his gut. It actually hurt. What was the doctor going to do? What was she going to ask?

He’d seen the understanding in her eyes when he’d asked if the lady cop could be the witness instead of one of the two men. Dr. Dani knew.

Dammit.

He’d followed her into the same exam room he’d been in before. Sitting on the paper-covered table, he watched as the lady cop took position in the corner, her expression kind.

Shit. She knew, too. His face flushed hotter than fire. Now they’d all know. They’d tell the two men outside. They’d tell Coach Diesel. Everyone will know.

His stomach churned in misery as the nurse came in. She looked businesslike, at least. The interpreter came in last and met his eyes.

“I’m here for you,” she signed without voicing for the others. “I’m bound to confidentiality. You get that, right? I’ll never share what you say with anyone outside this room.”

He nodded. “I get it.” It didn’t really help. She’d still know. And he wasn’t worried about her telling anyone anyway. It was the others who’d tell. Especially the cop. She had to report abuse. So did the doctor and nurse. They were required to by law. Just like teachers. Which was why he’d never told any of his teachers.

He fought the tears stinging his eyes. He would not cry, dammit. This was humiliating enough without him crying.

The interpreter closed the door and suddenly the room was very crowded. More crowded than it had been before, even though Coach Diesel had also been here, taking up more space than two of the women put together.