“Daniel? Do you mind? In case he has a trick up his sleeve, you’re the strongest.”

“Ha! I seriously doubt that.”

Secretly I’m flattered they think I’m strong. I carry the extra cup to where Deke is tied to the tree.

“Dude, do you want some?”

He nods.

“I can’t untie you, so you’ll have to let me hold the cup.”

He nods again.

I’ve never seen anyone look so miserable as he sips from the cup. Not meeting my eyes, but staring a million miles away. The strange thing is, less than an hour ago I was frightened of Deke, and now I feel sorry for him.

No amount of fame or money would persuade me to trade places with Deacon Bailey. Part of me wants to tell him that, but I don’t. Too mean. I’m sick of mean. Mean is what started the war. Mean is what got us here, holding a trial about a dead boy.

Mean sucks, and I want no part of it. Looking at Deke, who is miserable and also the cause of misery, I make a promise to myself. No matter what happens, I will not let myself be cruel to a fellow human being.

32. Can He Be Trusted?

When the last drop of hot chocolate is gone, Mia rinses our cups in the misty rain. The tarp doesn’t extend far enough to cover Deke, but he’s not complaining. He’s not saying much of anything. Mostly staring at the ground with downcast eyes. He looks so different it’s almost scary. One minute he’s a strong, confident bully, the next he’s shrunk to a hollowed-out version of himself.

Where did the real Deke go? Or is it all an act to gain sympathy?

“So how do we do this?” I ask Mia. “How do we decide what’s right?”

She shakes her head, furious at Deke, or maybe furious at the world. “How could you!” she shouts at him. “What were you thinking?”

“Mia?” Imani says, concerned.

Mia takes a deep breath, calms herself. “Okay. We put him on trial. We make our case for why he needs to stay tied up, he makes his case for why he should be let go.”

“And the three of us have to agree?”

“One way or the other. Yes. Like a real jury.” She strides out, hands on her hips, and confronts Deke. “I’ll go first, presenting evidence, and then you’ll defend yourself. Understood?”

Deke nods grimly.

“Speak up,” Mia says. “There can be no misunderstanding. Your life may depend on it.”

“Yes. Understood. You first, then me.”