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Back Surrender Your Sons Save as PDF
Chapters (43)
  1. Author’s Note with Content Warnings
  2. CHAPTER ONE
  3. CHAPTER TWO
  4. CHAPTER THREE
  5. CHAPTER FOUR
  6. CHAPTER FIVE
  7. CHAPTER SIX
  8. CHAPTER SEVEN
  9. CHAPTER EIGHT
  10. CHAPTER NINE
  11. CHAPTER TEN
  12. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  13. CHAPTER TWELVE
  14. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  15. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  16. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  17. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  18. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  19. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  20. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  21. CHAPTER TWENTY
  22. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  23. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  31. CHAPTER THIRTY
  32. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  33. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  41. CHAPTER FORTY
  42. EPILOGUE
  43. Acknowledgments

I share Bill’s overwhelmed agitation at the Reverend’s ability to keep stringing us along as we languish in suspense. But as soon as Bill hands me his crinkled letter, I push out the world and read:

July 16

Dad,

It took a while, but I finally read your letter Stanley gave me. Stanley has been good to me and Mom. He pays for whatever I need (not to make you feel worse, but I need a lot). I’m happy he’s been kind to you too. I’ve been thinking about what you asked, and I think I’m ready. The next time Stanley comes to see you, I’ll be with him. I want to be your son again.

Love,

The letter is typed, but the handwritten signature is wildly, unevenly scrawled. Ricky’s signature. The ink has smudged—probably from rain. Possibly Bill’s tears. The walls crowd me as the letter’s date registers: July 16. But Ricky died on the twelfth. He couldn’t have written this. He can’t be here.

The empty bed. You never saw his body, Connor, and you never went to the funeral.

It’s a trap. Ricky is alive, and all of this has been a show. The pins and needles surging through my blood crystalize into ice as I numbly hand Bill’s letter back to him.

“Mr. Major,” the Reverend says, “lead the way to Bill’s room. Let’s say ‘hello’ to Ricky.”

With a single flutter of his wrist, the Reverend takes advantage of my shock and plucks the spear out of my hands. I flinch as the Reverend lowers the spear to my neck, and he turns to Marcos. Needing no verbal command, Marcos immediately surrenders his spear to the Reverend. Our weapons disappear with several clatters into the shadows behind the dead flowers, and Darcy groans, as if she expected this. Defeated, motored only by curiosity, I march the group back down the corridor. Marcos and Darcy stick to my sides like peanut butter, craving as much space between them and Bill as possible. We pass Briggs, still sobbing by himself in the darkened corner. He reaches pleadingly for the Reverend’s sleeve, but the director rips his arm free. “Not now, Ben,” he says, sneering. “Your punishment isn’t over!”

As I pass the cages, somebody’s foot tramples the broken shard of my spear, and in the dark, it skids away to places unknown. We arrive at Bill’s sparse bedroom, resembling a prison cell even more in the light of the truth. Ricky and Rigo smile from the frame on Bill’s shelf. How could you do this to me, Ricky? I wonder as my eyes fall on the closet door.

The door—Ricky is in there.

“Bill, you might scare him,” the Reverend advises, hanging behind and blocking our escape. “Mr. Major, you and Mr. Carrillo should bring him out. He’s just behind that door.”