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Why did I find him if there was nothing that could be done to save him?
I want to believe we are set on the right path for a reason. I want, so badly, to hold that as the key tenet in my life, but I can’t in this instance.
What was the point of any of this?
Normally, I see someone in need, offer it to them, and their life improves.
But not today.
Nervously, I whisper, “A-Are the police going to arrest me?”
“No, of course not. They just want to understand where you found the boy. He was very young. Too young to die like that.”
I dip my head between hunched shoulders. “I thought he was my age.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
The doctor’s chin tips up. “If you leave your address with the receptionist, they’ll be in touch.”
Nerves make my stomach churn. Sure, Dad knows where I’ve been, but I don’t need the cops showing up at my door… “I-I just wanted to help?—”
“You did your best.”
“I know you did your best too.”
“I hope I did him justice, but sometimes, it’s never enough.” He heaves an exhausted sigh as he gets to his feet, his hand coming down to rest on my shoulder. He squeezes tightly then mutters, “You have a good heart.”
Before I can reply, he wanders off, and I’m left staring at nothing.
Then the father’s face flashes on the TV screen once more, and I suddenly know what I want.
Once a Catholic, always a Catholic—I may not be as devout as my family wants me to be, buta church will always be a sanctuary of sorts.
Leaping to my feet, I skirt around the uncomfortable chairs I’ve been sitting on all morning and head for the reception desk. I write down the details the receptionist asks for, give her my home number, and, cringing, tell her my address.
Once that’s done, I leave the ER and find the main entrance of the hospital. My mom works here so I know where the chapel is.
When I finally reach it, I sigh with relief once I realize it’s empty. Making my way to the altar, I throw some coins in the box and light a votive. Then, I slink to the back pew and I text Dad:
Me: He died
Dad: I’m sorry, baby
Me: I’m just going to say a prayer for him in the chapel and then I’ll set off for school
It’s not a total lie. I don’t want to say a prayer, just wanted to light the candle, but Dad doesn’t like to think I’ve turned my back on my faith, so this will appease him.
Dad: You did a good thing.
Me: Remember that if the police come around tonight and ask me questions about the boy?
Dad: *rolls eyes* Will do. I’ll warn Mom.
Dad: Take care. Let me know when you’re in class.
Me: :*