Mrs. Schroder’s voice pitched up high again, and she had to reach for another tissue. “Donny thinks they want to make Arnold as miserable as possible so that he’ll eventually point the finger at you.”
I sucked in a breath. All of this was my fault. Stubby was in the hospital because of me, and he’d be thrown back to the wolves again because he was my best friend and he wouldn’t lie and say I had something to do with Tevon and Payton’s murders.
“It’s the notebook, Maddie. They can’t seem to get past it. They really believe you’re involved.”
I dropped my chin. Stubby’s mom hadn’t been accusing me, but I still knew that I had to shoulder all of the blame. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Schroder, but I swear: neither of us had anything to do with the murders.”
I felt her reach out and pat my shoulder. “I know, honey,” she said, and I wondered if she really did. She was quiet for a bit, and then I heard her get up and move away. When I looked up she was bringing me a small frame. “Will you look for me?” she whispered.
My brow furrowed. “At what?”
She put the frame into my hands, and I realized it was a photo of Stubby. “Has his…has his date changed?”
I stared down at the round pudgy-cheeked image of Stubby grinning ear to ear. He was always happy. Always looking at the bright side. I missed him so much in that moment that for a time I couldn’t see the photo through my tears. Wiping at my eyes I focused on his forehead. “He’ll be okay, Mrs. Schroder.”
But she wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily. “What’s the date, Maddie?”
I lifted my gaze back to her. Did she really want to know?
“Please tell me,” she begged, and looking into her pleading eyes, I couldn’t deny her.
“Eight nineteen, twenty ninety-four.”
I was hoping that would bring her some comfort, but Mrs. Schroder only bit her lip and turned away. “The DA told your uncle that they intend to pursue a life sentence without the possibility of parole. That means Arnold could spend the next eighty years in prison. That’s no life for my son, Maddie. No life at all.”
THE FOLLOWING TUESDAY I FEIGNED a stomachache and cut my last two classes. I was so depressed and sad about Stubby and Ma that I couldn’t concentrate; all I wanted to do was go home and curl up into a ball.
As I was pulling my bike out of the rack to head home, I saw a gleam of black out of the corner of my eye. The next thing I knew, Donny’s BMW had pulled up next to me. “Oh, good, you got my message,” he said, getting out of the car to come over to me.
I was so surprised to see him that I simply stood there stupidly. “Message?” We weren’t allowed to have our cell phones on in school, and I’d forgotten to turn mine on when I left.
Donny took hold of the handlebars and began to push the bike toward the car. “Come on, kiddo. Traffic was bad, and we’re gonna be late as it is.”
I shook off my surprise and moved to his car. As we set off I asked, “What’s up?”
“It’s your mom.”
I stiffened. “What happened?”
“She collapsed this morning at the jail. I tried to get them to put her through a detox, but nobody over there wanted to listen to me, and now she’s in the hospital. Her liver and kidney functions aren’t good.”
I was so stunned and afraid for Ma that for several seconds all I could do was stare at him.
Donny put his free hand over mine. “Hey,” he said. “Don’t look so scared. She’ll be okay, Maddie. But I wanted to take you to see her before her court date.”
We parked in the garage across the street from the hospital, and I followed dully behind Donny as he led me inside. We paused at information before heading up to the fourth floor and inquiring at the nurse’s station. From there we walked the length of the corridor and stopped in front of an armed guard, stationed outside Ma’s room. He held the door open for us and came inside to stand with arms folded across his chest. The message was clear: we’d have an audience for the visit, like it or not.
Ma was so pale she looked gray. There were tubes snaking down from IV stands into her right wrist, and the sharp edges of her collarbone were sticking out. She looked so thin and frail. It was hard to believe this was my mom lying there.
There were also straps across her body, tethering her to the bed, but she seemed so frail and sick that I doubted she’d be able to fight her way out of bed, much less out of the room and past the guard.
As we stood there and took stock of Ma, a nurse came in, nodded to us, then went over to change a bag on the IV stand.
“Why do they have her strapped down like that?” I asked Donny.
“It’s to help with the seizures,” the nurse answered for him.
“Seizures?”
“Maddie,” my uncle cautioned as Ma stirred but didn’t open her eyes. “Keep your voice down, kiddo.”
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Why is she having seizures?”
The nurse looked to my uncle first before answering. He nodded, and she focused on me. “Your mother is going through alcohol withdrawal. When long-term addicts are forced to go cold turkey, their bodies often can’t handle it. Your mom should’ve been admitted to a detox facility instead of a jail cell.”
The nurse shifted her gaze to send an angry look at the cop guarding her, and he in turn rolled his eyes and looked away.
“Will she get better?” I asked.
The nurse collected the old IV bag. “She should. We’ll need to keep her here for at least the next forty-eight hours to make sure her kidney and liver functions come back to normal, but she should be well enough to be released back to the county in another day or two.”
“I’d like to speak to her doctor, if that’s okay?” Donny asked, smiling at the nurse. I could tell he thought she was cute.
“Sure,” she said, with a hint of a smile in return. She apparently thought he was cute, too. “Come on. Doctor Aruben is on rounds right now. I’ll take you to him.”