“Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

Melissa started crying.

Dad approached me. “We needed time to figure this out.”

I stared at him.

“Figure what out?”

Mom answered.

“If the police come now, Melissa goes to jail.”

I looked at my son bleeding in the rain.

Then at her.

“And that matters more than Evan?”

Mom gave a short, bitter laugh.

“Let him bleed. One less problem for this family.”

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Even Melissa stopped crying.

My mother seemed to realize what she had said, but she didn’t apologize.

I called 911 again and put the phone on speaker.

Dad’s face went pale when the dispatcher said officers were already coming.

A passing truck driver had seen the wreck from the highway and reported it.

Melissa suddenly grabbed my arm.

“Daniel, please. Tell them Dad was driving.”

I pulled away.

“No.”