She looked at her plate, pushing the beef in a circle. “Her father would disown her.”

Now she had his full attention. Simon’s too.

“Are we talking about you?” her father said. His eyes narrowed. “Who needs an alibi?”

“Gabriel Merrick,” she whispered.

“For what exactly?”

“For arson.” Her father’s face looked like thunder now, so she rushed on, stumbling over her words, afraid she would cry before she got it all out. “They think he started the fires that have been in the paper, but I know I know ”

“You know what, Layne?” Her father’s voice was ice cold.

“What do you know?”

“He didn’t. I know he didn’t. At least ”

“You don’t know anything, Layne.” Her father’s fist was tight on the table. “Arson is a big deal. They don’t just arrest someone on suspicion. There will be proof, and an investigation ”

“Apparently someone reported him for starting the fire at the farm. But he didn’t do it. He couldn’t have done it.” Her hands were shaking. “Because he was with me.”

Her father was staring at her. Simon, too.

Neither said anything.

She took a deep breath. “We were lying on the hill by the back paddock. He ”

“Lying? On the hill? ”

“Talking!” she said. “Just talking! But the fire started while he was with me, so I know he couldn’t have done it.” Her father wasn’t saying anything, so she rushed on, feeling tears prick her eyes with sudden emotion. “Can you call the police? Can you tell them? You can ground me forever. You can hate me. Just, please ”

“No.”

Layne flinched. “No?”

“This arson case has been all over the news. Unless you can provide an alibi for all the fires ” His eyes narrowed. “You can’t, can you?”

She shook her head quickly.

“It won’t matter. And I’m not dragging you into some investigation just because you had a fling with the local bad boy.”

“It’s not like that! He’s my friend ”

“Sure he is. Go to your room, Layne.”

“But ”

“I said go!”

She backed away, feeling tears on her cheeks now. “I’m sorry,”

she whispered. “Please . . . just . . . we could help him . . .”

Her father’s eyes flashed with anger. “He doesn’t deserve your help.”

Simon scraped his chair back from the table to stand. “Yes,”

he said emphatically. “He does.”

Her father looked speechless with shock.

“He’s my friend, too,” said Simon, anger almost making the words unintelligible. He signed while he spoke, but even his hands were tight with rage. “You would know that if you ever bothered to talk to me.”

Their father looked almost bewildered. “Simon . . . you don’t ”

“Shut up! You wanted me to talk, so listen.” Simon had to pause for an emotion-filled breath. “Gabriel Merrick deserves her help.” He glanced at Layne and touched the bruising around his eye. “He deserves mine, too.”

“Why?” she whispered.

Simon glanced at their father and scowled. “Are you sure you don’t have to check your e-mail?”

“That’s not fair, Simon.” But her father put his phone in his pocket without even glancing at it.

“No,” said Simon. “What’s not fair is you treating us like we left with Mom.”

Now her father flinched.

Layne caught Simon’s wrist to stop his verbal assault and signed. Please stop. He’s all we have left.

“Wait a minute,” said her father. “What does that mean, I’m all you have left?”

Layne snapped her head around. “You . . . you followed that?”

“Of course I followed that. What does that mean?”

“But . . . you never sign ”

“Because I think Simon’s going to have a challenging enough life without being entirely dependent on sign language. Especially,” he emphasized, giving Simon a look, “when you can speak perfectly well.”

Now it was Simon’s turn to look shocked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” said their father, his voice just a touch softer. “You have my full attention now. Tell me what I’ve missed.”

They left Gabriel in an interrogation room.

A relief, really, since he’d gotten a glimpse of the holding cell, somewhere between fingerprinting and mug shots. Fifteen other guys, some sitting, some standing. Most were twice his size. One guy slumped against the back wall, and he’d puked on himself at some point. More than once, from the stains on his clothes.

He was the only one who didn’t look up when Gabriel walked past.

The rest of them watched him. Especially a pale guy in his twenties with track marks down his forearms, who stared at Gabriel in a creepy, dreamy way.

Gabriel avoided eye contact with everyone.

He wished he could call Michael. He didn’t even know if his brothers knew what had happened.

And he thought he’d been alone before.

He’d been holding it together, though. He’d had a brief burst of panic in the school which blew out the lights in the guidance office. Suddenly, he’d been on the ground, with a knee in his back.