pencil, disinfectant pad and wound-closure strips, and with surprising delicacy cleaned the cuts on Sean’s face and hands.
When Sean tried to protest one more time, the worker glowered. “Hey, buddy, you look like shit, okay? I don’t think you ought to go see these folks’ family looking like this.”
He had a point, but Sean shook so much a second rescuer had to come and hold him still. Their gloved hands felt warm and rubbery against his skin. One of them was chewing spearmint gum, the scent distinct and strong but not quite masking the reek of motor oil and blood. The guy with the bandages positioned himself between Sean and the wrecked car, probably deliberately so Sean wouldn’t see the grim business of extracting the bodies. Beyond the worker’s shoulder, he watched the dawn breaking over the landscape, the ruined bank, the steep slope, the No Trespassing signs.
“They have other family in the area?” the worker asked, turning the gum over and over between his front teeth.
“Three kids,” Sean said.
“Man, that’s tough.”
In the kitchen, now bathed in golden morning light, Sean still flinched from the echo of those words. “Your mom and dad didn’t make it,” he told the children. “The rescue workers said they died…right away. They didn’t feel any pain and they weren’t scared.”
He felt Charlie in his lap, trembling like a baby bird that had fallen from the nest. He tightened his arms around her and lowered his head, resting his chin on her soft hair. He wanted to circle her completely, engulf her, form his body into a hard protective shell around hers. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” Never had those words seemed more inadequate.
“Now will you tell us what happened to your face?” asked Charlie in a fearful whisper.
“A few scratches, that’s all,” he whispered back. “From some branches.”
“Does it hurt?”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Who’s going to take care of us?”
“I will, honey.” The patrolmen at the scene had verified that he was the next of kin and that the children were being cared for. Later, a case worker would evaluate the situation, making certain there were adequate arrangements for the kids. Sean had barely had time to ponder the ramifications of that, but there was no way in hell he could look Charlie in the eye and give her anything less than his full commitment.
“We both will,” Lily said. Tears streamed down her face, but her voice was steady.
Cameron still hadn’t moved from the doorway. He looked painfully tense, keeping his emotions coiled inside. Probably better than anyone present, he clearly understood his world had broken away like an iceberg in the night, and he’d never get it back to the same place again. Life as he knew it was over; his childhood lay behind him.
Lily took his hand again, even though he’d rebuffed her a moment ago. “Cameron, I’m so sorry.”
Once again, he shook her off and backed away. “Now what?” he asked, his voice sharp with anger.
Lily looked over at Sean, her eyes swimming with sadness. She seemed to be just inches from losing it, but she didn’t. Their gazes held for a long moment. He hardly knew this woman, yet he recognized the pain he saw in her eyes. Then she blinked and the moment passed. They were just two strangers again.
“Cameron,” she said, “we’re not sure. We have to take this one step at a time.”
“More,” said Ashley, rattling her sippy cup.
Sean, Lily and Cameron moved to help her at once. They were all desperate to do something normal—give the baby some juice, wipe a crumb from her mouth, answer the phone.
Sean couldn’t believe someone was calling at this hour of the morning. Maybe it was Maura. Maybe it was the highway patrol, saying there had been a mistake, that was some other accident Sean had come across. He set Charlie aside and snatched the receiver from the wall phone. “Hello?”
“This is Melanie Larkin from KBUZ News. I’m calling for details of the Highway 101 tragedy—”
“Piss off,” said Sean, slamming down the receiver.
“S’off!” said the baby, slamming down her sippy cup.
Charlie regarded him with saucer eyes.
Sean felt his neck redden. “Sorry for my language. That was some news reporter wanting to ask about what happened.”
“How do they know to call here?” Cameron asked.
“They monitor all the police and emergency frequencies on the radio,” Sean said. “No idea how they got this number—”
The phone rang again.
“Check the caller ID,” Lily said.
Cameron looked at the small screen. “Says Wireless. I