The Family Photo That Didn't Have Me In It novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Nine Thirty-Nine

Bo came in with two mugs and saw my face.

He put the coffee down and took the phone out of my hand and watched it.

He watched it a second time with his jaw working.

"Can't protect you," he said. "He held your arm while your brother bled."

"I know."

"Two hundred thousand people watch that channel, Em."

"I know."

He sat down on the edge of the bunk.

"What do you want to do?"

I'd been lying there thinking about it while he swore at the percolator.

The old me would have stayed nine hundred miles away and waited for it to blow over.

It never blew over. Not once in eighteen years.

Being good will never make them love you, the note said.

I had been so good for so long. I was tired of being the proof.

"He said it in front of his lot," I said. "So I'm going to answer him in front of his lot."

Bo looked at me for a long moment.

Then he picked up his phone.

"Train's at eight tonight," he said. "I'll tell the captain."

On Wednesday afternoon I stood on the sidewalk in front of Tilden Auto Sales.

It was cold and bright. The plastic flags snapped over the rows of used cars.

The gold SUV was gone. The police still had it.

I'd emailed every newsroom in the city the night before, one line each.

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