We reached the farmhouse a little after sunset, and a gray sedan was parked in our driveway. A man in his sixties sat on the porch steps with a thick folder on his knees, his shoulders bent like he had been waiting for hours. Mom set her handbag down slowly and said, \u201cWalter Briggs.\u201d He stood and nodded. \u201cMargaret. Cooper told me what happened today. That was my son.\u201d<\/p>\n
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My mouth went dry. Walter held out the folder with both hands. \u201cI didn\u2019t come to beg for his job. I came because he needs to hear something, and so do you.\u201d He opened it. On top lay a yellowed transcript and a photograph of a muddy creek, a car half under brown water. Mom\u2019s face went completely white. \u201cWalter,\u201d she whispered, \u201cthat boy in the car was nine years old.\u201d He nodded, tears running down his cheeks. \u201cThat boy was Daniel.\u201d<\/p>\n
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