Chapter 21: What the Colliers Gave

Ansel's POV

Gordon Collier found me in the parking garage at eleven that night.

I was looking for the exit sign and not finding it, because half the lights were out.

He stood by a gray sedan with his hands in his pockets and did not raise his voice.

He never has.

"Ansel," he said. "Walk with me."

"I'm going home, Gordon."

"It will take two minutes."

I walked with him to the end of the row, where the concrete was cold and the cars had thinned out.

"You made a fool of my son tonight," Gordon said.

"He made a fool of himself. I took his pulse."

"In front of four hundred guests."

"He picked the audience."

Gordon looked at me for a while with his soft, patient face.

"I paid for your mother's last year," he said. "The private room, the nurse at night."

"I know."

"I paid your tuition when your scholarship ran out in your second year."

"I found your clinic its first building, and I kept the lights on for eight years."

"I know all of it."

"Then you know what you owe."

"I do," I said. "I've been paying it since I was fourteen."

He waited.

"I went to every two a.m. call," I said. "Every roof, every boat and every bad feeling."

"You were very good to us."

"I was very good for you. It isn't the same thing."

Gordon took a slow breath.

"You'll find a clinic is expensive without friends," he said.

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