Page 141 of Not a Word

“She’s out, son. With friends.”

“I wanted to talk to Mom!” He sounded like a child who’d just been told his trip to Disney World had been canceled. Again, looking at the woman, he asked, “Who are you?”

The woman raised her palms, not wanting to appear threatening. “Holden, my name is Leah. Leah Kennard. And . . . I’m your—”

Brent cut her off. “There are things we need to talk about, but we can’t do it under these conditions. Why don’t you go downstairs, we’ll get dressed and come down, and we can all—”

“I don’t understand!” Holden said. He was manic, waving the gun around.

“Hey,” Gage said. He’d taken a few steps into the room and was only a couple of feet to Holden’s left. “Come on, this isn’t cool. You can’t be doing this.”

“Gage is right,” Brent said. “We all need to calm down and talk.”

“Give me that,” Gage said, looking at the gun. He went to reach out for it, but Holden recoiled.

“No no no no,” he said, the gun going up and down. “I had this all figured out! I have things I want to say!”

“I bet you do,” Brent said. “And I want to hear them.”

“Not to you!” he said. “And not to her.”

“I want to tell him,” Leah said, looking at Brent. “It might help.”

“Not like this,” Brent said.

Leah didn’t look persuaded. She looked at Holden, who was still waving the gun, and said, “There’s something you need to know. I’m your—”

“Give me that,” Gage said to Holden.

For a second, it looked as though Holden was ready to surrender the gun to his nephew, but as he was about to hand it over, he reconsidered, drawing back. But Gage grabbed his wrist, got his hand on the gun.

Leah screamed and turned her body away, looking like she intended to drop off the side of the bed.

But in that moment when Gage pried it out of Holden’s hand, his fingers scrambling for purchase, somehow the gun went off.

The trigger. You didn’t have to draw hard on it.

Once the blast had passed, the room was stunned into silence.

It took a few seconds for everyone to grasp what had happened.

Leah Kennard had been shot in the back of the head.

Gage, struck dumb by his own actions, dropped the gun to the floor.

Holden said, “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!” He had his hands on his head and was starting to turn in circles. “Oh fuck!”

At which point, he ran.

Gage watched him take off down the hallway, then turned to look at his grandfather, who hadn’t moved. He was breathing shallowly, looking at Gage, then at Leah, then back at Gage.

Gage had yet to speak. He appeared to be in shock.

“It’s okay,” Brent said. “It . . . it was an accident. Gage, Gage, look at me. Gage.”

Slowly, the boy focused in on his grandfather. “I didn’t . . . I was just trying . . .”

“I know you were. Gage, I need you to look at me, and you need to listen very carefully.”