Chapter 20: Refuse

Heath's father stood in the cabin yard in his suit from the day before, with his tie gone and his hands hanging at his sides.

"Frankie called me at midnight," he said.

"Dad," Heath said from the doorway.

"She told me everything. I didn't believe a word of it." He looked at the white streak in his son's hair. "I'd like to be wrong about that."

His mother got out of the passenger side holding a thermos.

She walked straight past her husband and put her arms around me.

I stood stiffly for a second.

Then I held her back.

"Whatever you're about to do," she said into my shoulder, "do it with someone holding you."

"I will."

Frankie's truck door creaked open behind us.

She stepped down onto the gravel with her face the color of dishwater.

"A hundred and four," she said. "Don't tell me to sit."

Nobody did.

We walked down to the end of the dock.

The lake lay flat and gray, with mist on it.

Mr. Gresham stood on one side of me and Heath on the other.

His mother and Frankie stood a few steps behind.

My panel hung in the corner of my eye.

*CLOCK: 05:47:19.*

I did not need that much time.

"Say it aloud," Frankie said. "It has to be heard."

"By whom?"

"By everyone. By you."

Heath took my hand.

His fingers were cold and steady.

"You don't have to," he said. "You can still walk off this dock, and I will never say a word."

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

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