“I’m fine.”
“That is not an answer.”
“My elbow got scraped.”
Only then did I notice the long sleeve he was wearing despite the warm September morning.
I pulled the cuff upward.
Dark purple bruising covered his forearm.
“Oh, Ethan.”
“I’m okay.”
I wanted to hold him.
I wanted to shake him.
Instead, I heard myself whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His eyes finally met mine.
“Because you already looked scared when I told you about the guitar.”
Before I could answer, Officer Mercer held up a hand.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
There is always more when someone says those words.
The officer looked toward the evidence bag.
“At first we assumed the cable failed because the wheelchair was old.”
Rebecca wiped her face.
“That’s what the emergency room doctor thought.”
“But the break wasn’t caused by rust.”
The morning seemed to go completely still.
