“I don’t know about anyone else. But I know you. And I know that you are better than this. Your father and I can try to protect you—that’s our job. But you’re the one who has to live with yourself. I really hope you can figure it out, Will.”

Will looked down at his hands. She was right, as always. He had to figure it out for himself.

31

Dom Finch’s study was a sunny room tucked into the oldest part of the house, where Dom always brought Hunter when he wanted to speak seriously with him. Today Hunter sat in the old leather armchair opposite the desk, feeling like a scared child, despite the fact that he now filled out the entire seat, his long legs sticking out and his elbows sinking into its worn padding, waiting for his father to speak.

Dom’s voice was strained. “You have until Monday to turn yourself in for arraignment, Hunter. You’re being charged with misdemeanor vandalism. That’s a charge that carries a possibility of up to a year in jail. Since you haven’t told me anything to the contrary, I’m assuming that you did these things?”

Hunter shrugged. “It’s complicated,” he said finally. “I was there. But so were a lot of people.”

It was the wrong thing to say. “You are not like a lot of people!” Dom snapped. “You’ve been given so much more than other people, and you should hold yourself to a higher standard.”

“I know,” Hunter said. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, that’s not going to do us a lot of good right now. We’re going to have to fight this. You’re eighteen, Hunter. Your name is in the paper. Not to mention that this will be on your record if it goes forward. The optics are just terrible.” He raked his hand through his hair. “You’re going to plead not guilty. I have a lawyer lined up for you, Mark Greenberg. He’ll go with you and guide you through the process. You’ll meet him at nine a.m. on Monday morning, at the courthouse. I won’t be there—it will only draw more attention. I talked to our PR people, and there haven’t been any inquiries yet. Hopefully it will stay that way.”

The optics, Hunter thought. It was always about work. But he kept his mouth shut. Now wasn’t the time. “Is that it?” he asked. “Sounds like you have everything handled.”

Dom looked at Hunter with contempt. “You need to grow up. This is the real world, Hunter. You’ve been lucky so far, but the party won’t go on forever. You have to learn that there are consequences to your actions.” He looked at Hunter closely, as if assessing him and not liking what he saw. “We’re done here,” he said, finally.