Unbothered by this catastrophic drama, Archie the Tattletale smacks one of the gray-shirts on his shoulder and regards the others with a scrap of paper. “All right, gang,” he says. “We got our shopping list. We’re going to the clinic for supplies to wrap up the kid, and we’re not coming back ’til we’ve got it all.” Guess there’s a new Briggs in town. Archie and the quartet of sour-faced gray-shirts nod to each other and vanish in the opposite direction toward the clinic.

For something to wrap up Drew’s body.

Nightlight has no TV, no running water, no basic necessities…but they’ve got body bags.

Karaoke Bill squats to shut Drew’s eyes like they do in movies. The only other staff member left in the courtyard, the Reverend approaches the (surviving) campers, and on the end of a sigh, says, “I’m devastated you all had to witness this horrific thing. It’s a sin, one of the worst. Drew was a very disturbed boy—and he broke a very serious rule. I hope you see now where that life leads you.”

“I thought it was supposed to be Briggs’s fault,” I ask, exploding out of my calm. I can’t believe the Reverend is standing in front of a dozen (minus one) traumatized, vulnerable, at-risk children and laying the blame on Drew having sex with a man.

Huddled next to me, Marcos sucks in a sharp breath at my outburst, but I truly don’t care anymore. I refuse to be quiet while the Reverend leads more children to their own gallows.

“Yes,” the Reverend says, shrugging—a mea culpa. “Mr. Briggs is…a pathetic soul.”

“He’s an idiot kid,” I say. “How could he ever be anyone’s boyfriend?”

Ricky’s words emerge from the past like a poltergeist, and the Reverend—that grizzly, indomitable ogre—becomes a child again. I don’t know what compelled me to say it or what I hoped to gain, other than the juicy terror currently spread over the Reverend’s face. Maybe I’m just not good at letting assholes get the final word.