He briskly pulled on his sneakers. They were a little scuffed on the side, but a new pair was out of the question as long as he wasn’t working or going to school. His father had already made that all too clear. Don’t expect anything from us until you finally put your back into something. You can go barefoot for all I care.

He headed into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and styled his hair.

His mother stood in the doorway. She talked and talked, but he had stopped listening. He applied his gel carefully; his hair was getting a little long at the sides, but a haircut from a decent barber fell under the same category as a new pair of sneakers as far as his parents were concerned.

A hand clutched his shoulder. Instinctively, he pulled away. “Leave me alone!”

He wriggled past his mother back into his bedroom; grabbed his coat, phone, and charger; and hurried downstairs.

“That’s right, run away again,” he heard her call from the top of the staircase. “Run away from your responsibilities. You’ll never amount to anything, you hear that? Nothing at all!”

He slammed the front door behind him, looked around, and then remembered that his car was still at Kevin’s place. Angrily, he started walking in that direction. His vision grew cloudy; the houses and trees blurred into vague gray and green smudges. He sniffed and wiped the moisture from his eyes. The tears kept coming.

Why didn’t she understand anything?

Why couldn’t she just act normal for one day?

He couldn’t go on like this; he had to get out of there. But where could he go? And how? He had no money and no job; his best friend had probably been shot dead; and if he didn’t find three grand by Sunday, then Mikey would come not just for him, but for Naomi too. That was only three days from now.

3

3

It was doable as long as she didn’t think about the contents of the heavy shopping bag—but at every bump and turn in the road, she felt it shifting around in the small trunk of her car. She drove more and more carefully. Other drivers began to overtake her.

The traffic light turned red at the final intersection. She pulled into the right-hand lane and braked. A white car stopped alongside her, and from the corner of her eye, she noticed the colorful stripes, the lights on its roof. She lifted her chin slightly and looked straight ahead, her clammy hands clamped onto the steering wheel.

When the light turned green, her foot flew off the clutch, and she accelerated a little too hard. From the back of the car came a quiet thud. She smiled nervously at the police officers, corrected herself, and quickly turned onto the hospital premises. To her immense relief, the police car continued straight past.