“I wish he could understand,” Bobo said. “I wish he could be cured. But if he were, how could he live with himself?” He stared at the boy and seemed more puzzled than furious. “I don’t think Connor will ever understand. He’ll keep killing people as long as he’s alive. I know Shawn and Creek will be better off without him.”

“But he’s my son,” Shawn said. “He’s my son. I can’t bear to lose him.”

“Do you deny that he’ll kill again?” Olivia said, oh-so-reasonably.

“No.” Creek sounded sure.

“Do you think any help you can get him will stop him? Cure him?” Fiji asked.

“No,” Creek said again.

“You’re condemning more people to death if you let him live,” Olivia said flatly.

“Being a parent isn’t about being logical,” Joe Strong said. Those were the first words he’d spoken since he and Chuy had entered. “Shawn, what Olivia says is true. He will kill again. He’ll leave a trail of death behind him.” Joe didn’t sound as though he were making a judgment, but reporting the future.

“But I can’t consent to you killing my son,” Shawn said, his voice shaking. “What do you expect me to say? ‘Put him down, like a dog’?”

“Funny you should put it that way,” Lemuel said, and quicker than the eye could follow he stepped forward and snapped Connor’s neck.

36

Fiji and Manfred and Bobo walked back to their homes together, in a cluster, with Bobo and Manfred supporting Fiji. She was not crying, but she was clearly very shocked, if not in shock.

“Was that justice?” she said. She sounded as though she honestly wanted to know.

“More justice than he gave Aubrey,” Bobo responded.

“But isn’t that what separates us from . . . I don’t know . . . barbarians?” Manfred said. He was deeply troubled, and he didn’t know how to turn off the memory of Connor’s neck snapping.

“Barbarians.” Fiji laughed. The thin sound floated up through the cold air. Tonight felt like winter, and Manfred shivered. He’d come out without a jacket, as they all had. “I guess we are. That was justice. He couldn’t be cured.”

“You don’t know that,” Manfred began, only to be cut off by Bobo.

“Don’t try to defend him, not now, not in front of me.”

“Sorry,” Manfred muttered, glad they’d reached the pawnshop entrance. “Well, I’ll walk Fiji home. You going to be okay? You need me to do anything for you?”

“I’ll be better by myself,” Bobo said. “Thank you, Manfred.” He forced himself to look Manfred in the eyes. “This is a lot for a newcomer to absorb.”

“Yeah, well. Okay, we’re off.” He steered Fiji across the road, with their usual careful look both ways. “I don’t know why we always do that,” he said.