The wound in Billy’s head was very small. Almost no blood. If not for the way his small body was so limp, his face so blank, I might have thought he was pretending.

“What did you do?” My words fell from my lips like the toads and snakes in a fairy tale story, words from a cursed woman’s mouth. I fell to my knees in front of my son. Grabbed his shoulders. I took the nail gun from his hands and put it on the concrete floor. “What did you do?”

My son was gone. Nothing in his eyes but blankness. I gathered him to me. His body softened against mine. He stirred. Moved. I pulled him away from the sight of his friend.

“Go upstairs. I’ll take care of this. Mama will take care of you. Nothing bad will happen to you. Go upstairs, Eli.”

An accident could still ruin a life. I could not allow my son’s life to be set on that course. And what about mine? A mother out of her mind on pills, too messed up to know her son was playing with something so dangerous? Another child, killed? It might not have been my fault, but I would’ve been held responsible. They would have taken my son away from me. It would be the end of everything. So I took care of it, my own mind still hazy, my fingers fumbling. But I took care of it, to protect my son.

To protect myself, too.

I’d never had a garden before. It would be the perfect time to start one. A small plot, far back in the yard.

Later, but so much later, days later, we heard about the missing boy from two streets over. His mother came to our house finally, for the first and last time, to ask us if we’d seen her son. I didn’t tell her he’d been with us many times when she had no idea where he was. She didn’t ask. I told her what I’d told the police, that he’d walked home from our house on his own, and she went away with the rest of her posters clutched in her hands.

I heard she and her husband—who knew she even had one?—had moved away. The pain of their loss too much to bear. I understood that. They left the place where they’d lost their son.

And I … well, I’d made my choice, and I had to remain in the place where I’d made sure he would stay.

CHAPTER
39

ELI BURSTS INTO tears when I tell him that they found Ken, that he’s in custody. When I tell him what Detective Anderson said about Ken’s claims, Eli’s sobs taper off. We sit side by side on his bed. I take his hand and hold it.

“You told me you’d take care of it, and that nobody would ever know what I’d done.” Eli raises his wet face to mine.

My hands cup his cheeks. I use my thumbs to wipe away the tears there. “I did take care of it, honey. Your father killed a lot of little boys, and now he’s going to be punished for what he did. Nobody will ever know what really happened, and we never need to have anything to do with him, ever again. We can sell this house. Go someplace new. Start all over. We’re all right.”