Kane blinked, turning to Sophia. She stood on the bank where the weeds pressed up through crumbling pavement. He considered ignoring her, but she had several more pine cones and was a good shot. Actually, Sophia was a good everything. Just one of those people. Kane normally resented people like that, but she was his younger sister. He adored her. And he was intimidated by her, just a little. Most people were. That’s why he’d brought her along today.

“I wasn’t daydreaming,” Kane said. “I was thinking.”

Sophia whipped another pine cone at him, and he batted it away. “I know that look. You were thinking sad and poetic thoughts about yourself.”

Kane suppressed a smile. “I was not.”

“You were. Remember anything?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

“Well, I hate to distract you from your moping, but you’re in full sight of the bridge. Anyone driving by could see you.” She was right. The bridge, huge and elegant, hung in the shimmering summer air like a spiderweb. “And we have to meet Mom and Dad at the police station in like…” She checked her phone. “Forty-eight minutes. And we’re trespassing. And you’re actually trespassing again if you count—”

“I know.” Kane let irritation color his voice. “You didn’t have to come. You know that, right?”

“Well excuse me for trying to help my brother in his time of crisis.”

“I’m not in crisis. I’m just…”

“Confused?”

Kane winced. Confused. When he first woke up in the hospital after the accident, when he first realized he was in trouble, it seemed like a good idea to hide behind that word until he could figure out what was going on. The police were asking questions, and the few memories he had from the accident barely made sense. He was confused. But now the word felt like a friend he couldn’t unmake, always popping up to embarrass him. Discredit him.

“I’m not confused,” Kane said. “I’m just trying to clear my name.”

Sophia rubbed a smudge of sap on her palm. “Well, you’re doing a shitty job.”

She was right. He had been acting pretty terrible since the accident. Avoidant. Gloomy. Brittle. But these were things Kane had always been. It was just that now people were looking to him for explanations. They wanted answers, or at least to see a brave survivor of something terrible. Instead they saw Kane: avoidant, gloomy, brittle. No one liked it.

“I heard Mom say that Detective Thistler is doing a psych evaluation with you today,” said Sophia. “They’re going to ask you a lot of questions, Kane.”

“They’ve already asked me a lot of questions, Sophia.”

“You might consider attempting a few answers this time. For instance: Why?”

“Why what?”

Sophia glared at him. “Why did you drive a car into a historical site?”