Floating on the painkiller, he smiled at her. “What’s the bad news?”

“You’ve got three bones in your arm, and you hit the triple play. You’ve got yourself a broken elbow, kid. I’m going to splint it, and that’s going to help with the pain, help keep it stable. You’re going to keep it elevated over your heart as much as you can. In a few days, when the swelling’s gone down, we’ll hit those bones with sound waves, get you a cool cast. It may be you’re going to need the extra cool pins and screws, but I’m going to take another look when you come back.”

Floating, hazy, he smiled at her. “Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“That’s the spirit! If you need surgery, well, I’m damn good. Plus, you’re young and handsome, and got some really nice muscle tone going. We’ll get you back in shape. Got it?”

“Yeah, okay. Will they let me out of jail for it?”

The smile in her eyes faded. “Doctor’s orders. I’m just going to give you a going-over first. That handsome face needs a little help, too, right?”

“He didn’t break my nose this time. I know how it feels.”

Those crow’s eyes went extra bright like, to Zane’s thinking, a fire had blown up behind them.

“There’s good news. So any double vision?” she began, and her hands, gentle as butterflies, moved to his face.

He heard shouting—Emily—and tried to get up.

“Stay down,” Dave ordered. “Let the doctor do what she does. I’ll be right outside.”

“Tell her about Britt.” Through the haze, it all tumbled back. “You have to find out about Britt. He hurt her. I tried to stop him. I’m stronger than I was, but he’s still stronger.”

“Who hurt her?” As she worked, Dr. Marshall signaled to Dave to go.

“Graham. That’s what I call him in my head. Since December twenty-third. Not the last one, the one before, when he broke my nose and stuff.”

Dave stepped out, found Emily shouting at the officer.

“Come on, Jim. You know Emily. She’s Zane’s aunt.”

“I’m just following orders. I got orders nobody but medical personnel goes in. What am I supposed to do?”

Dave only shook his head, took Emily’s arm. “Let’s talk.”

“What the hell is going on? How bad is Zane hurt? They wouldn’t even let me see Britt.”

“I’m going to tell you what I know. I’m going to tell you what your sister and brother-in-law told the cops, and what Zane told me. And I’m telling you I believe Zane.”

He laid it out, no sugarcoating, watched her brace herself against the wall, go pale.

“I should’ve known. How could I not have known? My God, they’re just kids. How long has—”

“I don’t know. You don’t doubt what Zane says?”

However pale her face, the eyes in it went ferocious. “Not for one damn minute.”

“They’re sending him to Buncombe, the detention center here in Asheville, after he’s treated.”

“They can’t just—It’s Graham.” She set her teeth, breathed through them. “He’d make that happen, he’d find the strings to pull. Can I post bail?”

“I don’t know. Em, Zane gave me his house key. He asked me to get into the house, to get notebooks he’s got hidden. He’s been writing it down. I don’t know if it’ll help, but I’m going to find a way to get them.”

“Can you—It’s a lot to ask.”

“He’s depending on me. He’s a good kid, Emily. He’s a good friend to my boy, and the way I see it, he’s been kicked around by that son of a bitch for years.”

She swiped at her face, stared down at the wet of tears. How could there be tears, she wondered, when she felt such rage?

“And Britt?”

“I don’t know, but my impression is this might be the first time Graham went after her.”

“They won’t let me see her, won’t tell me anything, not even her room number. Dr. Bigelow’s orders. No visitors.”

“Mild concussion, bruised cheekbone, a lot of bruising. I’m sorry,” he said when Emily’s eyes filled again. “He sedated her at the house. I know a lot of the nurses, and got the update on her. She’s resting comfortably. Sleeping.”

He glanced back at the officer, moved Emily a few more steps away. “I’m going to check, make sure Graham and Eliza are still here. She had some pretty severe facial injuries, so did he.”

Emily balled both hands into fists, white at the knuckles. “I’d like to give them both a few more.”

“I hear ya.” He glanced back again. “I didn’t want to leave Zane until you got here. I’m going to let him know you’re out here, tell him Britt’s okay, just sleeping. Then I’m going for the notebooks. They’re going to take him, Em, nothing we can do about it. You have to go to the cops, tell them what I’ve told you. I’m coming back with the notebooks. We’ll show them to the cops here in Asheville. Not the Lakeview cops.”

“You’re a good man, Dave.”

“I’m a father. God knows that boy needs one. Try to reassure him when they come to take him to Buncombe.”

Emily waited, she paced, she woke up an old friend, now a lawyer in Raleigh, for advice.

She took the names of two criminal attorneys he gave her, and reluctantly accepted his advice not to call them at one in the morning.

She made a mental list. Police, lawyer, maybe child services. And yes indeed, a conversation with her sister.

When the doctor came out, Emily all but leaped on her. “How is he? Is he okay? I’m his aunt. I’m Emily Walker, his aunt.”

“I can’t give you details. It’s against the law. I’m going to tell you he’s been treated, and he’s as comfortable as I can make him.”

“Ah, Doctor?” Jim the officer cleared his throat. “I’ve got to ask if he’s cleared. The van to take him to Buncombe’s outside.”

Marshall fisted her hands on her hips. “And if I say no, he needs to stay here for observation?”

He shuffled, looked down at his feet. “Then I gotta tell you, ma’am, Dr. Bigelow said he’d come down and clear him personally. Look, I don’t like it, but the kid went after his mom, his little sister.”

“That’s a lie, a terrible lie.”

Jim’s face toughened, but he didn’t meet Emily’s eyes. “That’s the statement—from his parents. And the law says he goes to Buncombe until his trial. Now you sign off, Doc, or I’m ordered to let Dr. Bigelow know. It’s going to happen either way.”

* * *

Zane felt better. Maybe it was the drugs, or the weird splint, but he felt better enough he dozed off on the gurney.

And came around when a nurse—male—and one of the cops woke him to transfer him to a wheelchair. When they rolled him out, Emily rushed to him, dropped down.

“Oh, Zane.”

“Emily, you’re not supposed to—”

“You shut up, Jim, or I swear I’ll tell your mama you manhandled me,” she snapped back at him as she touched her hand to Zane’s battered face. “I’ve known you since grade school, James T. Jackson, and I’ve never been so ashamed of you.”

“I didn’t—”

“You don’t even have to say it.” Still stroking, Emily cut off Zane’s denial. “I know you, Zane.”

“You have to look after Britt.”

“I will.”

“You have to promise. Don’t let him hurt her.”

“I swear it to you on my life, you hear me? I won’t let him hurt her again, whatever it takes. You have to hang in for me, my man. I’m getting you a lawyer. Dave and I, your grandparents, and people who know you, we’re all going to do everything to get you out of that place.”

“It’s just jail. That house, it’s been jail a long time.”

“We’ve got to take him out, Emily. You’ve got to move back.”

“I believe you, Zane, and I believe in you. You believe me when I promise you, on my life, I’m going to fix this.”

She kissed his bruised cheek, made herself straighten and move back.

When she watched them wheel him around the corner, she turned her face to the wall, wept. And weeping, fumbled her ringing phone out of her pocket.

* * *

Britt woke in the dark, moaned, lifted her fingers to her throbbing cheek. The light snapped on, and her father stood beside her bed.

Hospital, she realized. Her father’s face had bruises, a blackened eye. His lip was swollen.

And his eyes peered out cold and mean.

“This is what’s going to happen,” he said. “When the police come to speak to you in the morning, you’ll tell them your brother hit you. He hit your mother, and knocked her down. He hit you. You don’t remember much after that. Your mother screaming for me, but you threw up and got dizzy. Do you understand?”

Be smart, Zane always told her. Be smart, be careful.

“Yes, sir.”

“You saw me fighting Zane, were frightened. You ran to the phone to call for help. He got past me for a moment, struck you again. That’s all you know. Is that clear?”

He did that to your face. I’m glad he did that to your face. “Yes, sir.”

He leaned down close, and her heart beat like birds’ wings in her throat. “Do you know what will happen if you say anything else? Do you think your face hurts, your head hurts now? It’s nothing. Your mother and I have told the police what Zane did. They, of course, believe us. Zane should be on his way to prison very soon.”