“They’re letters. Tons of ’em. From Carlos, the kid that attacked my mom’s coworker. The one who set the fire that nearly killed us. That kid wrote her hundreds of letters. They’re all about how much he cared about my mom, and how sad he was people were out to get her. He talks about their ‘plan.’ Setting the fire. Beating up that woman. He said he trusted her and would do anything to help her out. She promised him all kinds of things if he did what she asked. Money. An apartment. Even a Camaro. He wanted a red Camaro. All he had to do was get rid of her… her problems,” Aidan said. He stumbled over the word, a reminder he was the problem she wanted to get rid of.

“How did you… I mean, where did you find these?”

“My mom’s office safe. I knew it was off-limits, but I had this dumb idea…” He stopped, furiously kicking at the sand beneath his feet.

“What is it, Aidan?” Becca said.

“I used to think I might find something, like some kind of clue that would explain why she didn’t love me anymore.” Aidan ran a hand through his mop of hair. “She left her safe open one day. It was never open, and that’s when I found the letters. I read them all. All I could think about was how she loved this other kid more than me.”

Becca’s heart broke for him. “Whatever was going on with your mom, it had nothing to do with you. You know that, don’t you?”

He shrugged, clearly not believing a word Becca said.

“Why didn’t you tell your dad? If you knew she was planning something?”

Aidan’s eyes filled with tears. Wow, Becca, way to blame the victim. “Aidan, this wasn’t your fault. I just want to understand why you didn’t think you could ask for help.”

“I guess I thought it was all talk. I didn’t really think she’d hurt us. And I was scared of what might happen if my mom found out I took her stuff. I wanted to tell Dad. I kept the letters in my locker at school, and every day I’d tell myself I was going to bring them home and show him,” Aidan said.

“You didn’t tell him after the attack either? Were you still scared of her?” Becca said. She could hear the therapist voice creeping in.

“I was really sick after the fire. My lungs were damaged and the burns were… it took a while to heal. Afterward, Dad was so angry. He wanted us to forget about Mom, he didn’t even like talking about her. I guess I also thought if I hid the letters away, I could tell myself it wasn’t real.”