“Twenty-five dollars? That’s how much you charged C.M. to watch Jonah murder Isaac? I remember that match, Pops. Isaac was about to win when Jonah threw sand in his eyes. Remember? And then he got Isaac’s mouth around that wood fence post, managed to slam down hard enough to damn near rip off his jaw. That was a bloody one. Only worth twenty-five dollars? You didn’t upcharge when the dead kid was under thirteen? Bad business.”

“Cal—” I started, and that’s when she threw the notebook to the floor and climbed on top of him.

I understood why Cal wanted to kill him herself. I understood why, as she took his throat in her hands and squeezed, she would want to be the one he saw as he realized this was how it ended. His thirst for power had nothing to do with honor or responsibility. He wanted power the way a plagiarist wants credit: the concept of pride gained from work was meaningless. The people who hurt children are always this particular brand of coward. I saw countless of them on the belt. The kind who know they can’t get what they want on merit, who know their overall worth is less than their parts. And yet they feel power is owed to them anyway. So they siphon their power out of the weakest bodies ounce by thimble-ounce, sucking out every last drop. And then they pretend they earned it; that the bulk they swallowed—they stole—somehow makes them whole.

But she wasn’t like him. Even after all the hell, figurative and literal, he put her through. She was better.

“Cal!” I shouted, getting my arms around her shoulders and wrenching her free.

“Get the fuck off me!” she screamed. But when she shook me off, she fell against the wall and not over the General, who gasped and sputtered, blood and spit like a getaway rope dangling from his bottom lip.

SILAS

SILAS PARKED IN THE woods, over where Phil used to park before their folks knew about the bike. When he cut the engine and stepped off, the sponge of the forest floor forced him to lean against a tree to catch his balance. He pulled the bottle from the cupholder, only to find it empty. He pitched back and chucked it against a tree. The glass shattered, but he missed the glory of the sparkle out there in the dark.