"Sarah, I thought I was just playing a prank."
My heart stopped.
"What prank?"
He began crying.
"My father told me to push you from the swing."
I stared at him.
The world seemed to disappear.
For twenty years, I'd believed the playground accident was a cruel, childish mistake.
But it hadn't been a mistake.
Nigel's father had arranged it.
I struggled to speak.
"Why?"
Nigel shook his head.
"I didn't know. He said it was a game. He said you wouldn't be seriously hurt."
My hands began trembling.
"And after I fell?"
"I was terrified. I ran to him. He told me everything would be fine."
Tears streamed down his face.
"Years later, when I found out what happened inside the hospital, I understood."
I stepped backward.
My father made a broken sound.
Detective Collins looked stunned.
And I realized the terrible truth.
The playground.
The hospital.
The experimental treatment.
