A tear rolled from the corner of Arnie’s eye and slid down his cheek. Their sons felt like strangers—monsters. It was a thing hard to bear.

He heard Donna crying again and patted her shoulder.

“I’d cry, too, but I’m already sick to my stomach. No need adding to my misery.”

“What did we do wrong?” Donna wailed.

“We didn’t do anything wrong. They did. And that’s the hard truth of it all. They were loved. They were never abused. They just quit trying to do the right thing, and I can’t say as how I ever saw this coming.”

“It will be the ruin of them,” Donna said, and rolled over into his arms and started sobbing. “Why is this happening?”

Arnie kept patting her shoulder. “I wish to God I knew, but I don’t.”

“I want to go home,” Donna said.

Arnie frowned. “You mean back to West Virginia?”

“Yes. My sister, Joy, keeps writing, reminding me that Mama’s old house is vacant. We could live there for free.”

“But what would I do?” Arnold asked.

“You’re nearly old enough to draw social security, and you have your railroad pension for now. I could wait tables somewhere. We wouldn’t be paying rent. We’d do fine.”

Arnold was silent for a few moments and then he hugged her.

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll give notice at the feed store tomorrow. We can rent a U-Haul truck and tow our car. Do you want to tell the boys where we’re going?”

“They’ll know where we are. Right now, I’m sorry I ever gave birth to them,” Donna said, and then broke into sobs all over again.

* * *

Arnold and Donna weren’t the only members of the Hollis family in tears. Teddy was rolled up in a ball beneath his blanket, his face turned to the wall so no one could see his tears, while Brian was flat on his back, sobbing.

Lights were never turned off in jail, the cots weren’t their warm, soft mattresses at home, and the blankets they had for cover were scratchy and smelled of disinfectant rather than the lilac-scented fabric softener their mother used in the wash.

The reality of their situation had hit hard. They were criminals. They were in jail and probably going to prison. It was the worst thing that they’d ever done, and there was no coming back from it. Saying “I’m sorry” didn’t cut it. Not when they were already nineteen, and not when what they’d done was against the law.

Brian sat up on his cot and looked across the hall to where Teddy was lying.

“Teddy, are you awake? I’m scared,” Brian said.

“Shut up, Brian. Just shut up and lie down.”

“But what’s going to happen to us?” Brian said.