Chapter 5

“What’s your story?” I asked him.

“Grew up the son of a police officer. Me and my sisters, Molly and Melissa—we called her Missy. Now, it’s just me.”

“How come?” It felt intrusive, but my lack of social graces meant I’d only realized that after I’d asked.

“Dad was killed in the line of duty.” Sawyer’s hand went to the chunk of metal at his throat. “Missy died before that. Molly died later…over there…where you were. My mom is still alive, but she’s not.”

There was a statement! And I got the message.

“She, uh, lives in a bottle—a couple—pills and alcohol. I can’t blame her. We’ve faced a lot of tragedy.”

Maybe the tears had come because I had mentioned mine.