Chapter 3

His father Ray asked, “What are you drawing, kiddo?” while thumbing through a SportsIllustratedmagazine with a swimsuit model splashed over its front cover.

If Ray had looked down at his son’s drawing, he would have seen a small boy laying on a sidewalk with his left leg bent in an awkward position. Had Ray paid the slightest attention to his son’s piece of “art,” he would have recognized the Tudor on Market Street, the house number, and his wife’s Honda parked too close to the fire hydrant. If he was at all interested in what Damian had created that day, he would have noticed the small boy crying in his son’s sketch and a bloody pool near Andrew’s left kneecap.