It doesn’t take a genius to guess what happened next. They had no real suspects. Enough time had passed that the witnesses started doubting what they’d seen. Maybe the light had still been green. Maybe the driver hadn’t sped up. Maybe he hadn’t smiled, hadn’t looked like Jay at all. Maybe no one had been driving! While I was in the hospital, Teddy told me that once information about the antidepressants got out, witnesses started changing their minds and saying Jay deliberately ran out in front of the car. The parents denied this. Said Jay was happy, had so much going for him—good grades, friends—absolutely not suicidal. And even if he was, that didn’t change the fact that a hit-and-run takes two to tango. But Teddy and Oliver had no more leads. No more theories. No suspects, period. Someone—I put money on Oliver—must have floated the idea that we’d been looking at it wrong. After all, I was the one who insisted on intent. And I was out of commission, not there to defend my line of reasoning. So maybe I was wrong. Maybe the whole thing had been an accident—a mere coincidence that the suspect was driving Jay’s own car. That witnesses say he was smiling—a trick of the light. That he accelerated instead of slowing—only natural as he came down the hill. You’d think people would want answers. But ultimately this solution would have appeased everyone in their own way. Because if it was intentional, premeditated or otherwise, if someone did want to murder Jay, then at some point, you would have to ask why. And even though the family thought they wanted to know, when you really start pressing, all of a sudden, the everyone-loved-him story falls to pieces. The parents remember behavioral problems. Bullying. Petty theft. Maybe drugs—not everything shows up on our records. Rich kids’ parents can bury a number of their children’s sins. In the end, there are a lot of reasons why someone might want you dead, and it’s rarely because you’re an upstanding guy. But if it’s an accident? Well then, it can’t be Jay’s fault. He’s an innocent victim and stays that way. An angel in heaven—a decal on the back of a car window—gone too soon.