Chapter 16: The Clipped Video

By Tuesday morning the video had eleven million views.

Strangers had found my name, my cousin's address and the name of my surgeon.

My phone had stopped working under the weight of it, so I put it in a drawer.

Dale came to the cousin's house with his laptop under his arm and his jaw tight.

"Get dressed," he said. "Elliot's at the restaurant."

"What is he doing there?"

"Going to jail, if he has any say in it."

I put on the green dress again, because it was the only one that had walked an aisle.

We drove across town with Mom in the back seat, gripping her purse.

The steakhouse had its blinds drawn.

A crowd of men with cameras waited on the sidewalk, and the doorman held them back with one arm.

He let us through when he saw me.

Inside, the dining room was empty except for four people.

Elliot stood by a table near the back, in a plain gray shirt, beside the owner.

The owner was a heavy man in his sixties with a towel over his shoulder.

A detective in a brown jacket sat at the end of the table with a recorder.

Elliot turned and saw me, and did not come closer.

"This is Mr. Rhodes's statement," the detective said. "He asked me to take it in front of witnesses."

"Please go on," Elliot said.

The detective cleared his throat.

"Mr. Rhodes, you wish to report that on Saturday, you struck and damaged a wheelchair occupied by a disabled woman."

"I kicked the wheelchair three times."

"Then I pushed it across the restaurant and into a table."

"Her name is Annie Finucane. Her central line tore open. She bled on this floor."

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