Chapter 19

“We didn’t have enough time.” And then I felt tears stinging my eyes.

The cop took my hand gently in his, and I watched the action with awe and wonder. He squeezed my hand, and something of his strength passed into me. I felt calmer.

“Not your fault,” he said. “Shawn was running on borrowed time you might say.” He shook his head. “You have no idea how he suffered.”

“He told me something of it, I think,” I said, but the cop shook his head again.

“You have no idea. It wasn’t just his experiences; it was him. He hurt too much inside.” A pause. “Oh, he was a tough kid, our Shawn. But he hurt—it was his nature, though he hated that.”

“What hurt?” I asked.