“And you’re not allowed to argue with an entire police shift.”
Ethan laughed nervously.
“I think I am.”
“Nope.”
Nathan put one hand on his shoulder.
“Son.”
Ethan looked up.
“You reminded a lot of adults yesterday what kindness is supposed to look like.”
Ethan swallowed.
“I just helped Sophie.”
“Exactly.”
Nathan smiled.
“That’s why we wanted to help you.”
SOPHIE ROLLED TOWARD HIM
Sophie pushed herself smoothly across the kitchen.
No sticking wheels.
No squeaking.
She stopped beside Ethan.
Then pointed at the guitar.
“You better keep this one longer than twenty-four hours.”
Ethan laughed.
“No promises.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes.
“I’m serious.”
“What if somebody needs a drum set?”
“Ethan!”
Everyone laughed.
And standing there in that kitchen—
with two police officers smiling near the wall,
Sophie sitting comfortably in her new wheelchair,
and Ethan holding a guitar he never expected to receive—
I finally understood why the police had looked so serious at my door.
