Mom says. The living room is settled in darkness. I go about opening the curtains as she speaks. “I had to take something for my migraine, and it knocked me right out.” Detective Evans has already pawed through Tom’s room. “He doesn’t have a computer?” “He’s never wanted one,” Mom replies. “No cell phone either, I understand. That’s a bit different for a kid his age.” “Tom has never gone in for electronics. I don’t know what to say.” She wrings her hands. “He’s only been living here for half a year.” I crank open a window. “Mom,” I say, “I’ll talk to Detective Evans about Tom, okay?” “He moved in with his father all those years ago and…” She covers her face. I want to tell her it was Tom’s choice. A decision had to be made. Sure, it was an easy out for everyone, but no one knew at the time that it would be so hard on Tom.
