Traffic was backed up from Avery Avenue to Zang Boulevard. He strummed his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel of his new car as he waited for the cellular service to connect the call. Mediation had lasted well over two hours. After their initial interaction, Collin Broomes hadn’t been much interested in talking, falling into a sullen silence for the balance of the session. His attorney and the mediator had both been diligent about hashing out a game plan for the young man’s future. But Matthew had been the only one to actually ask the boy his opinion, genuinely interested in what Collin might want for himself. He’d hardly been surprised when Collin gave him little to nothing, his responses amounting to single-syllable answers. His mother had spoken only once during the entire discussion, reprimanding her son and advising him to check his tone when he became insolent. The boy had reeked of attitude, had a massive chip resting square on his shoulder. Her tone had been firm, the look she’d given her son stern.
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