Mom took in Jordan and all his blood and bandages.

“Why did you need to go to a hospital?” she asked.

“Our medic evaluated him—he needs a few stitches and antibiotics,” the lieutenant said. “He’ll be fine in your care.”

“Mom,” I said, “Jordan was stabbed and is infected, with a fever close to 104. That’s why he needed the hospital—but they’re not letting anyone leave. They threatened to shoot us.”

“No arms were drawn, ma’am,” the lieutenant said.

Mom glared at me. “We already knew the road was closed,” she snapped. “Now get in the house before you get into more trouble.”

As Jordan and I passed her in the doorway, she said to the officer, “I’m sorry. They’re good kids, usually.”

“That’s all right,” he said. “No harm done. And here are the keys to her car.” He looked beyond her to Jordan, standing with me just inside the door. “There’s no reason to try to leave again, son. No one is looking for you. We know where to find you when we need you.”

Jordan nodded back at the lieutenant and said nothing.

“Ask him how come—” I called out to my mom, but she cut me off.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate you returning my daughter and her friend safely. I’ve got it from here, and there will be no more trouble, I promise you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, bowing his head and taking his leave.

“In the back. Now,” Mom said, closing the door and leading us into the exam room where I’d dressed Jordan’s wounds in the first place. She slapped her palm twice atop the metal table, and Jordan hopped his butt up there.

“He might go septic,” I said. “I used my best judgment.”

She said nothing, unwrapping the bandages. If steam had started to come out of her ears at that point, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

“There are two wounds, his wrist and calf,” I said.

“I can see that,” Mom said.

“I did what I could. The one in his leg is deep.”

Mom looked up at Jordan. “You were stabbed?”

“Yes,” he said. “With a sword.”

“He says it came out of a skull-faced scientist’s stump arm,” I said. “Jordan was delirious, feverish, not making sense.”

Jordan flashed his disarming smile. “Maggie and I have agreed to disagree about my account of tonight’s events.”

Kneeling beside him, Mom gently peeled back the tape that held the gauze on his arm. “This one isn’t bad,” she said, putting the bandage on his wrist back into place. “Nice job, honey.”

I appreciated the compliment, though she still wasn’t looking at me.

“Now let’s look at that leg,” she continued, ordering Jordan to lie flat on the table, at least as much of him as would fit.

“He said he was attacked with a sword at the power plant,” I said.

“What were you doing there?” she asked Jordan.

“Trying to see my dad.”

“In the middle of the night?”