His forehead was bandaged.
My breath caught.
Nicholas.
Nigel.
Eleven years old.
I looked at my husband.
His face had gone completely white.
On the recording, Charles Rowan approached his son.
He spoke to him for several seconds.
Then handed him something.
A small white envelope.
The boy stared at it.
He looked frightened.
Then he began crying.
The footage ended.
I turned toward Nigel.
"What did he give you?"
Nigel shook his head.
"I don't remember."
But his expression told me he did.
"Nigel."
He stared at the floor.
"Please."
"What was in the envelope?"
His eyes filled with tears.
Finally, he whispered:
"Money."
The room went silent.
I felt my stomach drop.
"Money?"
He nodded.
"My father told me it was a reward for helping him."
I couldn't breathe.
"Helping him do what?"
Nigel looked at me.
And suddenly, his face seemed older than I'd ever seen it.
