“Yes, I’ll bring him into it!” Clay shouts. “You want to know how my brother died? Probably not, because you don’t give a damn, but I’m gonna tell ya anyway. Cole was ten. Him and me, we was like you and Ethan. We went everywhere together. One day I was driving us home and I spotted a shiny sports car parked on the side of the road. I pulled over and thought we’d have a look-see. I shoulda known better, but I was stupid and fourteen. When we walked up to the car, they was waiting for us. Two men jumped us. Took everything we had. The bastard cut me here,” he pulls down his shirt revealing a jagged three-inch scar above his heart. “Cole—” He grimaces. “He bled out in my arms.” He looks down at his empty hands.

He lifts his head, anger replacing the pain. “That’s what’s going to happen to him,” he points wildly to Ethan, “if you rush into that hospital.”

I shake my head. “I’m not asking to go on some joy ride in a sports car. I’m asking you to save my mama’s life.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, stepping away. He looks up at Ethan. “When he dies in your arms, it won’t matter why you went.”

“Clay—” I reach for his arm.

He pulls away and stalks off into the distance. There’s a pain in my chest, like an iron fist squeezing my heart into pieces. When I fit it back together, my heart will be a sharp jagged thing, ready to slash at anyone who gets near me.

Ethan’s at my arm, tugging. “Riley, go after him.”

I shake my head wildly. “No. And you’re not, either.”

Ethan cringes at the tone of my voice. “What d’you mean?”

“We leave him behind.”

“Why?” he whines.

I stare into Ethan’s wet eyes. “Because he’s still on the wrong side.”

The tears start to well in Ethan’s eyes, but I grip his forearm. “No crying. Not for him.”

Ethan snatches his arm away and runs off without a word.

I stand alone, batting at the hot tears that prick at the corners of my eyes. Alone is better. The only person that can cut you when you’re alone is yourself.

* * *

It’s late afternoon when I finally peak out of my room. The house is quiet. I haven’t seen or heard anyone since the incident at the fire. I’ve been hunkered down, too, licking my wounds, but I gotta pee something fierce. I slip through the dank hallway, out the door and out into the fresh air. The birds twitter in the eaves of the houses around us. The brittle weeds crunch beneath my feet as I walk into the back yard of the abandoned neighboring house.