The boy looked up, tears streaming down his face, as his whole body began to shake. Deep, almost guttural cries clawed up from deep in his chest. He gripped his hair and shoved his face against his knees again, muffling his unbearable pain only slightly.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dr. Sanders murmured. He looked at Devlin, who nodded. The doctor quietly retreated.
Mrs. Healy turned into Devlin’s partial embrace and clung to him like a drowning woman, her wails of anguish wrenching from her as her strength failed. Devlin, his chin trembling, held the devastated mother, his damp eyes resting on her oldest son. The boy’s cries suddenly fell silent as he hugged his knees and began to rock back and forth, thatemptinessreturning to his eyes as he pressed his mouth against his knees.
What’re they going to do now? How do you move forward from this?
Devlin thought about the horror scene in the park the night they found Abel and the two dead kids. If those kids had been Maddy and Savannah, as they first believed, Abel and Angel wouldn’t have been able to move forward. They would’ve been trapped in the nightmare for the rest of their lives.
We all would have been.
“Wait outside,” Wil Jordan instructed the two officers, one of whom had a broken, bloody nose, his face already bruising and swelling. “I’d like to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Brown in private.” He nodded at the injured officer. “Have a nurse take a look at that.”
The officer shot Dan Brown a disgruntled look as he exited the room with the other cop.
Wil sighed and looked at the husband and wife. They sat in plastic chairs beside the bed their son’s body had recently occupied. The man sat slumped, his hands cuffed behind him, his face blank as he stared at the tile. His wife leaned on him, clinging, her face pressed into his shoulder, sobbing.
Pulling up another chair, Wil sat before them. “I’m Detective Wil Jordan,” he began in a calm voice. “I want to say how sorry I am for your loss.” After a moment, he stood and removed the man’s cuffs. Dan Brown slowly brought his hands in front of him, absently rubbed his wrists, and kept staring at the floor. Wil sat back down. “I understand your reaction to the other kid, Mr. Brown,” he said. “But—”
“He killed my son.” The statement was flat and toneless—no anger or hurt—just a hollow declaration.
Wil nodded. “Yes,” he murmured. “But it’s important that you understand the circumstances surrounding the accident.”
“I don’t care,” the man whispered. “My boy is dead because of him. I don’t carewhy.”
Across the corridor, a woman’s sobs swelled into wailing cries. Wil hung his head, his throat tightening.
Mrs. Brown slowly raised her head from her husband’s shoulder, tears streaking her face. “What happened?” she whispered with a tremor, recognizing the utterdevastationin the other woman’s cries.
Wil rubbed his mouth. “She lost her son,” he said with a quiet strain. “He was thirteen. He was shot in a drive-by shooting.”
The woman crumbled and buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
Wil looked at Dan Brown. The man flinched at the news, fresh tears welling in his eyes. “Her oldest son, Connor, was with him when it happened. He put his little brother in the car and rushed him to the hospital. He was in a panic, trying to save his brother’s life. He didn’t…” Wil swallowed. “He didn’t see your son when he stepped into the street. I know it doesn’t ease the pain of your loss, but it wasn’t an irresponsible, reckless act that took your boy. The young man was terrified, desperate to save his little brother. It was an accident. One that… I don’t think he will ever forgive himself for.”
Dan Brown’s head slowly sank. Tears began to roll down his face. “Did I… hurt him bad?”
“I don’t think so,” Wil murmured.
“I wanted… I wanted to kill him,” the man whispered sickly. “I would have, if…”
“You didn’t,” Wil said. “But you did commit assault in a hospital—on an officer as well as the young man. I’m afraid there will be consequences.”
His wife looked up desperately. “You’re… You’re going to arrest him?” Her despair deepened, and she shook her head, tears streaming. “Please, Detective, please don’t take my husband away. I need him… please… I can’t…” She hugged her husband’s arm and sobbed into his shoulder. “We just lost our boy… he wasn’t thinking straight… He’s not dangerous… He’s never hurt anyone before… please don’t take him away from me.”
Wil’s heart ached for the woman… and her husband. “The extenuating circumstances will be considered,” he said quietly. “Unfortunately, I will have to take him into custody.”
“Can I… Can I come with him?” She looked so fragile and lost, terrified of being left alone amid her grief and anguish.
Wil nodded. “You can come to the station with him.”
“What will happen to him?” she whispered.
“That remains to be seen,” Wil said. “But I will do everything I can for him.” When the woman wilted against her husband, Wil added, a note of sadness in his voice, “I’m so sorry to do this to you at a time like this.”
Dan Brown lifted his head, focusing for the first time. Tears streamed freely as anguish and remorse filled his eyes. “I did this.” His chin trembled as he looked at his wife. “I’m so sorry, Nora. I’m so sorry…”
Nora Brown cradled her husband’s head as they both cried.
