“He’s not in trouble.”
I exhaled.
Then he continued:
“But someone wants to speak with both of you.”
He gestured toward the street.
“Would you come outside?”
SOPHIE’S FATHER
A patrol car was parked at the curb.
Beside it stood a man holding a police hat in both hands.
I recognized him vaguely.
Nathan.
Sophie’s father.
I had seen him at Willowcrest Middle School events, although we had never really spoken.
He worked with the Bellmere police department.
Nathan approached Ethan.
“You Ethan?”
“Yes, sir.”
Nathan nodded.
“You bought my daughter that wheelchair?”
Ethan looked immediately worried.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry if—”
Nathan raised one hand.
“No.”
His voice broke slightly.
“Don’t apologize.”
Then he looked at me.
“Would you mind coming over to our house?”
I frowned.
“Right now?”
“If that’s okay.”
Officer Cooper smiled.
“You should go.”
There was something about the way he said it that made me stop worrying.
Ten minutes later, we were back outside Sophie’s house.
THE GUITAR CASE
Inside, Jillian had prepared what looked like enough breakfast for twenty people.
Pancakes.
Eggs.
Toast.
Fruit.
Coffee.
Sophie sat at the table in her new chair.
But Ethan barely noticed the food.
Because leaning against the wall—
was a brand-new guitar case.
He stopped in the doorway.
His entire body froze.
Nathan watched him.
Then rubbed a hand across his jaw.
“Yesterday evening, I came home and found out two things.”
He looked toward Sophie.
“First, I found out how badly my daughter’s wheelchair had deteriorated.”
Sophie looked guilty.
Nathan continued:
“And how much she had been hiding from her mother and me.”
Then he looked at Ethan.
“Second…”
His eyes grew wet.
“…I learned that a thirteen-year-old kid from Willowcrest Middle School sold the possession he loved most because he couldn’t stand watching my daughter struggle.”
Ethan’s face turned red.
