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“He looked at me in the mirror,” Finn continues, “and he saw I was listening. He yelled at me to put my headphones on. I did, but I didn’t turn them on, so I could still hear them. She said he needed to be patient, but he said he’d had enough, and if she loved him she’d leave today. She got angry and said he didn’t understand, and told him to stop and pull over, but he wouldn’t. He was on the state highway, going quite fast. She yanked at his arm, and the car swerved. I told them to stop, but she kept doing it. Then she caught the wheel and pulled it, and the car went onto the other side of the road. That’s when it hit the lorry.”
He falls quiet. We stare at each other for a long moment.
“Your mum doesn’t know?” I confirm.
He shakes his head.
Fuck.
“Did you know they broke up for a bit?” he says.
“Who?”
“Mum and Dad. A few months before the accident.”
My eyebrows rise. “No, I didn’t.”
“They were arguing a lot. I don’t know what about. They’d always do it after I went to bed, but I could hear them. And sometimes there’d be a crash or something, and later Mum would come into my room and get into bed with me, and she’d cry. She always thought I was asleep, but I was always awake.”
“I’m sorry, Finn.”
“One night, the September before the accident, she came into my room and woke me up. She’d already packed a bag, and she took me out to the car, and we drove all the way here in the dark.”
“Jesus.” It’s nearly a five-hour drive from Dunedin to Christchurch. “Did she tell you what had happened?”
“No. I knew, though. She had a bruise on her face.”
I tip my head back and look up at the ceiling. I study the glow-in-the-dark stars that are stuck there in the shape of the Southern Cross for a moment, then drop my head and look back at him. “How long did she stay here?”
“Dad drove up a few days later and begged her to go back. I said I didn’t want to, and Grandma told her not to, but she said a boy needs his father, so we went back.”
I lower my feet to the floor and sit forward, elbows on my knees, hands clasped. “Do you think your dad was seeing Sarah before the accident? Is that why he and your mum argued?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t like talking about it.”
There’s a sound outside the room. Finn’s reaching over to get the glass of water he has on the nightstand, so I don’t think he heard it, but I glance at the door and see a shadow move before light footsteps echo along the hall into the living room. Oh shit, I think Missie was outside, listening.
I look back at Finn, who sips the water and replaces the glass on the nightstand. “I’m glad you told me,” I say.
“You won’t tell the police?” he says.
“The police?”
“They don’t know how the car came off the road. They asked me lots of questions, but I didn’t want Mum to know what they were arguing about, so I said I didn’t remember.”
My heart goes out to him. Not only has he carried this burden for a whole year, he’s done it believing he’s breaking the law in doing so.
“I think you’re an incredibly brave lad,” I tell him sincerely, “and admirable for wanting to protect your mum.”
“She doesn’t have anyone else. She needs me to be the man of the house.”
“And you’re doing a great job. Look, it’s late, and you need your sleep, because your body heals itself when you’re sleeping. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m here now, and I’m planning to do my best to look after you both.”
He meets my eyes then, and his lips curve up. “I’m glad we met you.”
“I’m glad I met you, too.” I get up, and then, as he looks up at me hopefully, I bend and give him a hug. “Sleep tight,” I say gruffly.
“Don’t mention bedbugs,” he says, moving down under the covers.
