Quentin shakes his head. “He said Tom had to serve some time.”

“Oh . . . oh, no. How much—”

“Three years, Penn. That was the best I could do.”

His words hit me like a gut punch. Sweat breaks out on my face.

“This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening.”

“I’m afraid it is. Now tell me about Peggy. A deputy came in and said she collapsed.”

“We don’t know,” Rusty says. “Drew Elliott’s taking her to the hospital.”

“Did Dad hear that she collapsed?” I ask.

“No. They’d taken him out by then.”

“Back to jail?”

Quentin nods solemnly.

“Quentin . . . this is wrong. You know it is.”

The old man looks back at me, his face bereft. “I don’t know what I know anymore. Except I’m tired. Too tired for this.”

“But—”

“Go check on your mother, Penn. You’re the head of the family now. It’s time to start acting like it.”

While I stare in disbelief, Quentin tilts back his head and looks up at his wife. “Let’s go home, Doris.”

Doris Avery looks at me with infinite sadness. Then she lays her hands on her husband’s shoulders and nods twice.

“Let’s go, bubba,” Rusty says, gently pulling me to my feet. “Let’s find out how mama’s doin’.”

The waiting room of the Natchez ER is mostly empty at midday, even on a Friday. The only people there when we arrived looked like they were using the place for routine illnesses. When Rusty and I gave our names to the reception nurse, she asked us to wait by the door, then came out and escorted us to an empty treatment room. For a couple of minutes, I was sure Drew was going to walk in and tell us Mom had died, but Rusty kept insisting that was impossible, that my mother might well outlive us both.

When Drew finally did come in, Jenny was with him. He told us then that he was fairly certain Mom had suffered some sort of cerebral vascular event. He’d hoped it was a repeat of her silent migraine episode, but instinct told him there was something more serious going on. “I’ve ordered quite a few tests, and we’ve started them. But Peggy wants to see you before we take her down for her MRI and other scans.”

“Okay,” I say dully, trying to wrap my mind around everything.

Jenny says, “She’s scared to death, Penn. For Daddy mostly, but I think she’s actually afraid she might die for once. That’s why she wants to talk to you.”

“I’ll go talk to her.”

“Wait about ten minutes,” Drew says. “There’s a med tech in with her now.”

“Just let me know when I can go in. And thanks, Drew. Thanks for being there and moving so fast.”