His mother followed the officers out, and Will was left with his father and the two attorneys. He tried to concentrate on what was happening to him. But all he could think about was Maddie, downing vodkas in his truck and crying in his bed. Had she driven off the road?

His father was looking at him. “Can I have a few words with my son?” he asked the DA, who nodded. “Alone,” he added for their lawyer’s benefit.

“Now that your mother’s gone, I’m going to give you some advice. I know I usually leave that sort of thing to her, but I’m gonna speak, and I want you to hear me out.

“Your mother is a good woman. And she’s not wrong. But it seems to me that you’re going to bear a lot of responsibility for things a lot of other kids had a hand in. I don’t know if there’s a good answer here. And I know they’re saying that you have to take the deal right now. But I don’t like being put on the spot like that. My bet is that if you come back tomorrow and you want their deal, it will still be good. I think we should go home tonight and think about it. Like I said, I don’t know if there’s any way out of this. But let’s at least take tonight to talk it over.” He sighed. “You’re a good kid, Will. I know that you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Will hadn’t expected this from his dad. He’d expected yelling, or maybe silence, but not this. Understanding. “Will you tell them?” he asked.

His father stood up and signaled to the attorneys. “We’re going home,” he announced, not feeling the need to elaborate.

“This is a good deal!” the DA exclaimed, clearly surprised.

“We’ll think about it,” his father said, leading Will out of the station. In the parking lot, Will saw the bins of sports equipment still sitting outside of the community center door.

His father followed Will’s gaze and put a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head. “No good deed goes unpunished, does it?”

“That’s another one of Mom’s sayings that you always tell her isn’t true,” Will said.

“Well, this time,” his father replied, “I think she had it right.”

43

Hart County General Hospital was a gleaming new building where the doors slid open as you approached and nurses in colorful scrubs pushed computer trolleys between the rooms. Will, in his baseball cap and jeans, felt conspicuous walking down the corridor with a bouquet of flowers from his mother’s garden clutched in his damp hand.

His mother had called his cell phone before he’d even gotten home from the police station. “You were right,” she said. “It’s Maddie. They’re taking her to the hospital.”