’ ‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. Both had lived rather quietly until a scandal had opened up a can of worms for the son, allegations of child abduction, reported sightings of a white van around nearby elementary schools. “It makes me feel,” he said, “that nothing is impossible—to have you here beside me. She took up a book and threw it down again. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living.
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