“But then when he got out, he killed a cat,” Shawn said, finally finding his voice. He might have been a million years old. “We found it. We knew he’d done it. So we had to move. We thought if we moved to a really quiet place, if we limited his exposure to other people . . . if we were careful to stay out of the news, all of us . . . then none of the past publicity would catch up with him, no one would know about his juvenile record, and he’d have a chance to straighten out.”

“Are you happy with how that worked out?” Creek said to her father. “All that we did, coming to live here, no friends, no family, no money, we did all that for Connor, and this is what it’s come to. I almost got to college and got away, but no, the paperwork went missing.” Her hands were clenched in fists.

“I got the paperwork out of the mailbox and ripped it up,” Connor said.

“What?” She looked at him blankly, as if his words made no sense.

And his father was looking at him the same way. “Connor . . . why? Why didn’t you want your sister to go to college?”

“I’d be lonely, and you’d make me do every damn thing around here,” Connor said. “Wouldn’t you?” And he actually sounded accusatory.

There fell a stunned silence. Until Connor began shifting around, looking bored and antsy. Lemuel had let go of him, but he moved a little closer as Connor fidgeted.

“What will we do?” Shawn asked, as if to himself, his voice despairing. Fiji did not know if she wanted to slap him or comfort him. He looked around at the small crowd in the store, meeting their eyes in turn. “What will you do?”

Fiji could not think of what to say.

“He should die,” Olivia said.

None of the others offered an opinion.

“But I’m me,” the boy said. He gave a shrug, smiled. “I’m just a boy.”

“There are plenty of boys,” Lemuel said. “As you said about your sister’s puppy.”

“Uncle Lem,” Creek said. It wasn’t clear what she was pleading with him to do. Maybe she didn’t know herself.

“Don’t kill him,” Shawn begged. “We’ve gone through so much with him.”

“But what has that gotten you?” Olivia said. “No gratitude, no obedience, no change in his behavior. Just your own lives ruined. And wherever you run, it’ll be the same.”

“He’s got the taste for it now,” Fiji said, almost inaudibly.

Connor didn’t plead for his life or offer any rebuttal. He waited, with a calm face, for whatever would happen next. He could not conceive of the world going on without him, Fiji could tell.

“What is your judgment, Bobo?” Olivia asked. “Creek lost her dog, but you lost your lover.”