"But I can't let you get away without paying for your crime," she said. Nicole's tears had stopped, but she glanced up nervously from the table where she'd written her statement in elaborate cursive that looked as much like art as it did handwriting. "You can't?" "No. You have a choice. You can volunteer at either of the two assisted-living places in town one day a week, for two hours, until the end of the school year. You'll be reading to older folks who have trouble seeing." The arrangement had already been okayed by Nicole's mother. Frowning, Nicole said, "You told me I have a choice. What is it?" "You can decide which place you're going to volunteer." "So I don't really have a choice." "That's right." "Okay, but I don't know if my mom will let me..." "She'll let you, Nicole. This is the law talking. You do understand that, right?" "Yes." "And if I ever, ever see your name anywhere near a police report in the future, I'm coming after you personally, you got that?" "Yes, ma'am." "Okay, now tell me how you got connected with Shane Hamacher." "I just know him.
