Page 143 of Reasons We Break

“What’s the point of chances if your odds never change?” Kat’s ever-present smile fades. She leans forward and touches the photo frame. “My son wasn’t able to return to a normal life after his first incarceration. Getting a job with a criminal record is hard enough, but it’s even harder when you spend much of your young life imprisoned instead of learning skills.” She flips through a stack of stapled papers. “While you were...gone, one of the community colleges accepted you for a woodworking program. I can help you apply for funding. If you want.”

She pushes the papers over. He stares at them, suddenly afraid. “Kat, I’m going to Halifax.”

“I thought you said the Lion’s Share wasn’t going to bother you anymore.”

Hedidsay that. “Even if I stayed, we both know I’d flunk out.”

“No. I don’t know that. And neither do you.” Kat’s gaze drops, and he realizes he’s jogging his knee up and down.

He stops immediately. “Do you remember that maple tree in our yard?” She nods slowly. “I finally cut into it, and it was rotting from the inside.” He’d taken the chain saw to it after Simran’s mom had left. Because suddenly, he had to know. “It’s useless. I can’t do anything with it, because it was already ruined.That’swhy it fell, not the storm.”

She studies him. “Why are you telling me this?”

He has no clue. “Because...clearly, woodworking is a bust.”

“I’m sure they’ll supply you with materials. Nobody’s going to make you chop down your own trees.” Great, now even Kat’s making fun of him. While he glares, her amusement fades. She says, quietly, “You are not rotten, Rajan.”

All his breath leaves him in a rush. He blinks back the sudden burning in his eyes.

Kat, thankfully, doesn’t appear to be looking for a response. She clasps and unclasps her hands, staring down at them. She almost looks like she’s debating something. Then, out of nowhere: “Remember that evening we met in the ER?”

“No, I forgot about you shoving my arm back in its socket.”

She ignores this. “Before you arrived, I was about to leave without being seen. You changed my mind. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”

He stares. “What?”

She doesn’t say more. He racks his brain trying to recall their conversation that night. They talked about her son, and he told her not to blame herself. He left after she fixed his shoulder. He still doesn’t know whyshewas there, she didn’t have any obvious injuries—

Oh.Oh.

“Shit,” he says at last, succinctly. That was the night her son died. “You were gonna...”

Kat clears her throat. “Don’t ever try to tell me you’re not capable of good things. I am living proof. I’m sure your brothers would agree, despite what you think. Iknowyour Hillway mentor agrees.” She taps a heavy stack of Hillway reports. “I may have lost my son, but you—”

“Kat, you don’t have to say it—”

“You remind me of him.” Her smile trembles. “Angry. Lonely. Lost. But so much more, too. And deserving of a life better than the one the system was determined to keep him in.”

“Kat,” he says weakly. He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Goodbye, Rajan.” She closes his file. “I wish you all the best.”

WHEN RAJAN GETShome, he opens his suitcase.

He stares inside, at T-shirts he never unrolled. A pair of shoes stuck into the side pocket. Socks that have long forgotten their partners.

A few days ago, leaving felt like the right decision. Not anymore. Now he wonders if Kat is right, and maybe he doesn’t have to completely start over every time he screws up.

“You’re leaving again?”

He turns to find Yash and his father in the doorway. It was Yash who spoke, and he looks afraid of the answer. The story Rajan told Yash about his hospitalization (and he knew Yash would tell Sukha and their dad) was that he overdosed, simple as that. It was hard to tell that lie. But it was better than the alternative—them worrying about people coming after him. “No. I’m here to stay.”

He directs that at his father, who remains impassive. Then turns and leaves without a word.

It doesn’t bother Rajan as much as it used to. Maybe Kat’s right that his mom’s death had nothing to do with him—maybe she’s not. Either way, his dad’s already made up his mind. But Rajan’s done making that his problem; he’s here for his brothers. He always should’ve been.

Yash exhales. “Really?”