Chapter 99

“I know you’re mad at me, Wiley, and what I say doesn’t count for shit, but let me tell you something. You need to get help—you need to talk to someone. You’re no different than all the other people who have suffered a natural disaster. They were just minding their business too, just like you. It affects everyone differently. And some people—like you—get really freaked out and start thinking some really crazy shit. So go talk to someone. But most of all, go talk to your son. He’s probably ten times more freaked out than you are, and he needs you more than ever. If you’re scared, just think how scared he must be.”

“But that doesn’t solve the problem,” I said.

“What problem?”

“That he’s going to die.”

“You don’t know that he’s going to die, so stop saying that.”

“I can’t help it. His birthday is next month. He’ll be twelve. It might be the last birthday party he ever has.”

“Wiley, please.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it!”