Page 63 of Shrapnel

“Yeah. Doc said he would have died if he wasn’t hypothermic from the rain. Slowed down the blood loss. Wallace had his police contacts run DNA and fingerprints, but Jamie wasn’t in any database.”

Owen couldn’t believe that. “There was no missing person’s report?

“You think a half-dead kid in an alley has people looking for him? He didn’t even know his name. Or want to remember it. Grant called him Jamie.”

The ache in his heart was back. He couldn’t help but remember the sleepy way Jamie had snuffled into the blanket, wrapping his lanky body up. He didn’t even have a name.

“You sure you want me to continue?”

Steeling himself, Owen nodded. Curiosity killed the cat, but Owen had come too far to stop now.

“After he healed, it was obvious he wasn’t ok. Not that any of us were, really. Just a bunch of throwaway kids adopted by a gang. But he was quiet. Jamie would just sit against the wall, small as he could make himself, and watch us. Head to the side as if he didn’t understand what we were doing. During class, he would just stare out the window. One day I asked if he needed any help and that’s when I realized he couldn’t read or write.”

Elijah scrubbed his face. “I remember the first time he laughed. We were watching some cartoon and he laughed at something on the screen. It was the first time I had seen him do it, but he started panicking. Slapped a hand over his mouth and started hyperventilating. Mumbling he was sorry. Over and over again.”

“Wh-who was he apologizing to?”

“I didn’t ask. He got better after that though. Started playing with us. Laughing and talking more. He never had any interest in school, but no one could climb a tree faster than he could.” He smiled faintly as if remembering something too pleasant for a conversation like this. “Then when we were around fourteen his mom showed up.”

Owen almost fell off his stool. “He had a mother?”

“Apparently. She said she got her life together, had a real job and an apartment. Wanted Jamie back. None of us liked it, of course. Especially Grant. I’m not sure if it was because he was the one who found him or because he named him, but he always had a fondness for Jamie. Wallace said it was up to Jamie.”

He couldn’t imagine a fourteen-year-old making a decision like that. It seemed unfair. But the Weavers weren’t exactly adopting these kids legally. Wallace probably felt like he couldn’t keep Jamie away from his mother.

“Jamie wanted to go back with her. Grant told him he could call anytime, even gave him a cellphone. Told him to keep in touch. But he didn’t.” Elijah’s eyes lost their focus, seeing something Owen couldn’t. Something he probably didn’t want to see.

“Grant looked for him. Talked to everyone, and carried his photo around. But no one had seen or heard from him. Then a year later, he showed up. Walked right through the gate. He was skinny and had cigarette burns and track marks all over his arms. I stayed with him through the withdrawals. When he got sober Grant asked who did it, none of us believed for a second Jamie had taken drugs willingly, but he refused to say anything.”

Owen had never spent any time around drug users, but he knew what coming off drugs was like. He suddenly understood the look in Elijah’s eyes. How did Elijah do it? Knowing someone had tortured his best friend and there was nothing anyone could do?

“He never talked about it, but he had nightmares. He would clench his jaw so tightly just to keep from making a sound. Grant had to keep taking Jamie to the dentist because he kept cracking teeth. Somewhere around then is when he started setting fires. Small ones, at first. Most of the time we only knew he did it because he came back with burns.”

“Didn’t anyone think to get him professional help?”

Elijah scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Dr. Edil suggested it. It wasn’t easy getting a bunch of men who live on secrets to agree to a shrink, but they did.”

Owen could only guess how that went. “Let me guess, he didn’t talk to her? Or he made so many flippant comments it was pointless?”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t there. But Jamie spoke to her for a while. He came back and said he felt better.”

“Wow. I mean, I’ve never done therapy before but if that helped him—”

“The doctor killed herself six hours after talking to Jamie.”

He didn’t know how to process that. If Elijah had kicked the stool out from under Owen, he probably would have continued sitting there. Like a cartoon character that ran off a cliff, he wouldn’t fall until he looked down. A doctor trained to deal with trauma, killed herself after speaking to Jamie? How did that even happen? What did he say to her?

“You don’t think…”

“No. No way. Jamie didn’t kill her. I know that. He was with me the rest of the day. And maybe she had some other issues or something. We don’t know if it’s even related to what Jamie told her.”

Elijah didn’t look convinced.

“After that Grant bought him a fire pit. Told him he could set all the fires he wanted as long as he didn’t hurt himself. Taught him to shoot, too. Spent hours with him, just the two of them.”

Owen’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t picture the Jamie he knew, the one with the crooked grin and quick wit, suffering like that. What could a young kid have seen that caused a grown woman to kill herself?

And how could he live with it?