Page 69 of Weight of Guilt

Somebody had taken care of Christian.

“That’s good,” Marlowe said, small creases of uncertainty at the corners of her eyes. “Isn’t that good?”

Nobody answered her.

“There’s one more thing.” Dr. Hardin looked at Nora. “I asked him for a DNA sample.”

“And?” Nora asked.

The doctor frowned. “He said no. Twice. Then I told him that it would protect him as much as anybody.” She paused. “He finally agreed to let me do it about ten minutes ago. The sample is logged and will go out in the morning.”

“Why would he say no?” Marlowe asked, her voice almost breathless, as if his reaction was a betrayal.

“He’s seventeen, and he’s been through a lot. I’ve had grown men refuse a blood pressure cuff. I wouldn’t think about it too much.” Dr. Hardin stood. “He’s resting. Give him twenty minutes and you can go back.”

When she’d gone, the three of them sat in that corner without looking at each other.

“Don’t,” Marlowe said. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Wren said. “And I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Marlowe—we’re on the same side. Don’t forget that.”

Her sister said nothing.

“Now is when we call Mom and Dad,” Nora said. “I suggest starting with Mom first.”

Wren turned toward her. “You want to make the call?”

“I can. But you’ve always been her favorite. Maybe it should be you.”

“I’m not her favorite . . .”

“I’m too bossy, and Marlowe is too strong-willed. You know how to handle her the best.”

“Okay then.” Wren walked to the window at the end of the row and pulled out her phone.

Her mother answered on the second ring.

“Wren?” She sounded startled. “Is everything all right?”

“Mama.” Wren pressed her hands against the window frame. “I need you to come to Sevierville. To the hospital.”

“The hospital?”

“Mason’s fine. He’s with Cody. Everyone is fine.”

“Then what?”

Wren closed her eyes.

She’d promised Luke not to say this on the phone. “I can’t tell you like this. I need to tell you in person.”

“Wren Elizabeth.” Her mother’s voice had gone still. “You’re scaring me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”