“Let’s have a seat.” Oliver pulled a chair away from the table. Muscle memory had him taking out a notepad and several pens and setting them down in front of him. The movement was familiar and foreign, something he had done thousands of times in his old life, something he hadn’t needed to do in months.
“So how does this work?” Anya asked.
“Ideally, Hayden tells me what happened in his own words.” He hoped they got the hint. It wouldn’t help to have them filling in the silences with speculation and half-baked hypotheses. Parents did that, instinct pushing them to protect their kids.
“I stole some tablets from the guidance counselor’s office.” Hayden’s voice was flat, and Anya made a soft sad noise that had Nick pulling her close.
Oliver kept his focus on Hayden. “You’re not disputing it?” With teenagers, you usually got everythingexcepta full confession. Denial, deflection, shifting of blame. For Hayden to come right out and admit what he’d done was notable.
“There was a box of them delivered while I was working in her office. She had to go to the bathroom. I took a few and put them in my backpack. I thought she wouldn’t notice right away.”
“But you were going to give them back, right?” Anya asked.
Hayden glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Then I would have said I borrowed them. You don’t give back things you steal.”
Anya covered her face with her hands. Nick’s eyes were wide and begging as he stared at Oliver.
Oliver folded his hands on the table. “Do I want to know why you stole them?”
Hayden shrugged, but didn’t say anything.
“Answer him.” Nick’s voice was deep, at the edge of angry, but Oliver held up his hand.
“Sometimes it’s better not to.” He turned his attention back to Hayden. “You know it’s bad, right? You were already on home confinement, and while theft of a single tablet could be considered minor in many circumstances, since we’re talking about multiple units here, with your record, it’s unlikely that anyone is going to be lenient. We’re looking at extending your sentence for sure, and probably incarceration in a juvenile facility.”
Anya was crying for real now, big tears down her cheeks. The lines on Nick’s face got deeper with every second. Hayden continued to stare at the table like he was building up his X-ray vision capabilities.
“So if there is anything you can tell me that will help me explain why you did what you did, or any reason why the rest of your sophomore and most your junior year shouldn’t be spent in jail, now would be a good time to share it.”
Hayden continued to scratch at the table.
“Hayden.” Anya’s voice was thin and tear-soaked. “Honey. Please. You have to tell him. We love you, please. We’ll help you any way we can, but you have to tell him what happened.”
The only indication Hayden heard her was the whitening of the knuckle on his index finger where he traced an invisible line on the chipped wooden finish.
“Hayden.” Where Anya’s voice was a plea, Nick’s was firm. His next words would be a command, and Hayden tensed.
Oliver stood abruptly, his chair scraping over the floor. The move was a distraction, more than any real need to get up. But putting Hayden on the defensive would not help any of them. “Can I talk with you both for a minute?”
Anya and Nick followed him out into the hall. The second the door was closed, Anya went to pieces, sobbing in Nick’s arms. Nick smoothed her hair down her back and stared at Oliver over her shoulder, black eyes desperate. “He’s been like this since we got here. Won’t say anything else. It’s like he’s given up.”
Oliver wanted to touch him so badly, tell him it was all going to be okay, but this wasn’t the place, and he couldn’t promise that. He didn’t know all the particulars of Hayden’s case, but his history wasn’t good. “What have you guys had to eat today?”
Nick shrugged, and Anya shook her head, like they didn’t understand the question.
Oliver glanced down the hall. The station was quiet, which was to be expected in a small-town police department on a Tuesday afternoon. He suspected no one would mind if he dragged this client conference out a bit.
He spoke directly to Nick. “Go get something to eat. I’d like to talk to Hayden alone.”
“Can he do that?” Anya asked Nick.
“I’m not the police. Hayden’s my client. With your permission, I’d like to talk to him.” The request was this side of ethically dodgy, but then, so was representing your lover’s son without disclosing the relationship.
Nick stared at Oliver, and he tried to give them his most professional and reassuring smile.
“Come on,” Nick said. “We’ll go across the street and get a sandwich. We don’t have to be gone long.”
Oliver relaxed and stayed in the hall as Nick led her away. Nick glanced over his shoulder once, before they turned the corner, and mouthed,Thank you.Oliver tipped his chin toward him, but he didn’t want thanks yet.
