Graduation Night, continued...

Roger woke up in the emergency room, but he didn’t know where he was at first. He only saw the white curtains draped around his bed and felt a twinge of fear in his stomach. For a moment, he had no idea how he had gotten here, but then it slowly started to come back, like the details of a bad dream. He remembered the collision, the broken glass, and Adam’s body lying motionless on the pavement...

Before Roger could dwell on it any longer, an older man in scrubs yanked the curtains open. The light from the rest of the room made Roger blink and his head throbbed dully.

“Did you just wake up?” the man asked.

Roger nodded.

“I’m Dr. Tompkins,” the man said.

“Hi,” Roger said awkwardly.

“Do you know where you are?” Dr. Tompkins asked.

“Um... a hospital, I think.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“I... I was in a car accident.” Roger hesitated. “Right?”

“That’s right.” Tompkins made a note on his chart. “Do you know your name?”

“Roger Jacobson.”

“Can you tell me today’s date?”

“It’s June... 12th... 1992.”

“That’s right.” Tompkins made another note on his chart. “How do you feel?”

“Not so great,” Roger said. But that wasn’t what was on his mind and he was sure the doctor knew it.

“You had a mild concussion,” Tompkins explained. “I’m going to do a neurological exam on you, but I expect you’ll be fine in a few days. You’re very very lucky.” The doctor’s face darkened, “The other people involved weren’t quite so lucky.”

Roger was afraid to ask. He was hoping if he didn’t ask, maybe it wouldn’t be true. But he had a bad feeling that everyone else involved in the accident was dead.

“The woman driving the other car was dead on arrival,” Tompkins said in a cold voice. “And Mr. Harding is in critical condition.”

“He’s alive?” Roger asked hopefully. He was so sure Adam hadn’t made it.

“He’s in surgery right now,” Tompkins said. “He has a lot of internal injuries. He has about a fifty percent chance of pulling through. And if he does make it, there will be serious permanent damage.”

Roger closed his eyes. “When will the surgery be over?”

“We’ll let you know the outcome.”

“What about Maggie?”

“Broken arm and a few broken ribs,” Tompkins said. “She’ll be all right.”

Thank god for that. Although Roger knew that Maggie would never speak to him again after what happened.

“After we’re through in here, the police would like to have a word with you,” Tompkins said.


“Your blood alcohol level showed intoxication. This is a very serious offense.”

“I know.” This was too much to deal with all at once.

“You’d better find yourself a good lawyer,” Tompkins advised.


Adam’s eyes opened a crack. He felt groggy and disoriented. He turned his head and saw the bleary images of his parents looking over him. Am I dead? Adam wondered. Am I at my own funeral?

“Adam!” His mother’s worried voice rescued him from his delusions. “You’re awake!”

“What happened?” he murmured. He was having a lot of trouble remembering anything.

“Sweetheart, you were in an accident,” his mother said. He could see her eyes were very red and puffy. “Do you remember?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted, although as he spoke he caught an image of Roger’s father’s black Toyota.

“You’re in a hospital right now,” his father said calmly.

Adam nodded. He could have figured that out from the IV coming out of his arm. He tried to move his arm and it felt like he was moving through molasses.

“You've been out since the surgery a few days ago,” his father continued.

A few days ago? Had he really been unconscious that long? Surgery sounded so ominous. What had they done to him while he was sleeping? Had they removed something that he needed? “Am... am I okay?”

He got the worst answer possible: his mother started sobbing. Adam’s chest filled with panic. What was going on here? And where were Maggie and Roger?

“Son...” his father began.

At that moment, the doctor came in. It was the chief resident, Dr. Chang. He was a young man with a confident smile. “I see you’ve woken up,” Dr. Chang said to Adam.

“Yeah,” Adam said in a small voice.

Chang glanced at Adam’s mother, who was now crying uncontrollably. “Okay, Mom and Dad,” Chang said, “I’m going to need to ask you to leave so that I can have a talk with your son.”

“I want to stay,” his mother said.

Luckily, his father was acting more sanely and pulled her from the room. Adam was nervous, but he was also relieved to see them go. Chang pulled up a chair to Adam’s bedside. “How are you doing?” the doctor asked.

“Uh... I feel kind of weird.”

“Weird?” Chang smiled.

“Like... in a fog.”

“That’s the painkillers we're giving you,” Chang explained. There was an air of easy confidence about Chang that Adam appreciated.

“Why did I have surgery?”

“You were bleeding a lot inside,” Chang said. “We had to go in and stop the bleeding. You also had a back injury.”

“Oh,” Adam said. Chang had answered his question, but really not told him anything.

“Adam,” Chang said, “can you tell me your last name?”


“Good. Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh... no, not really.”

“Okay, well what month is it?”


“Good. How about the year?”

“It’s 1992.”

“That’s right. Do you know where you are?”

“In a hospital.”

“Right. Do you know why you’re here?”

Adam hesitated. “I was hoping you would tell me.”

Chang crossed his arms. “Fair enough. You were in a major motor vehicle accident caused by drunk driving. You came pretty close to dying, but I think you’re out of the woods now.”

“Okay,” Adam said. He sensed there was more to come.

“Unfortunately,” Chang said, “you sustained a serious injury to your spinal cord at the T6 level. It was completely severed. As a result, you have complete paralysis from the mid-chest down. You probably haven’t noticed it because you’re so heavily sedated.”

“I... I don’t understand,” Adam said. “What does that mean?”

“You won’t be able to move or feel anything below the mid-chest level.”

“No,” Adam protested. That couldn’t be true, could it? He moved his arm under the covers and touched the skin of his leg. Could he feel that? It was so hard to tell with this damn fogginess. He tried to lift his right leg. He stared down at the lump of his right foot and saw that it did not move. A shiver went down his broken spine. “How... how long will this last for?”

Chang’s face was grim. “I’m afraid it’s permanent, Adam.”

The rush of adrenaline was clearing away the fog in his mind. “Permanent? But...”

“You’ll have to depend on a wheelchair from now on,” Chang said. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this.”

“But don’t bones heal?” Adam asked desperately.

“Yes, bones heal. The spinal cord doesn’t.

Adam yanked back the covers. His legs lay before him, two motionless lumps. He concentrated on his right leg, willing it to move. It refused to obey him. Adam felt tears coming to his eyes. Then he noticed something underneath his hospital gown. “What’s this?”

“It’s a protective undergarment,” Chang explained. “The spinal cord also controls the bladder, so often people with injuries become incontinent.”

“So you mean I have to wear a diaper now?” A tear escaped from Adam’s eye.

“It’s just temporary,” Chang said. “You’ll probably use a catheter in order to urinate when you go home. But these are issues we can discuss further in the future.”

Adam felt nauseous. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He kept thinking he would wake up and be in his own bed and all of this would be a dream. How was it possible that he would never walk again?

“I know this is a lot to absorb at once,” Chang said. “If you have any questions at all, I want you to know that I’ll be here to answer them. Would you like me to bring in your parents?”

Adam didn’t want to face his parents. He didn’t want to hear their false comforting words, that everything would be okay, when the truth was that he was crippled for life. And he didn’t want to see his mother’s tears. Really, the only person in the whole world he wanted to see right now was Maggie McConnelly, but he knew that was one wish that would never be granted.


The next few days were a blur for Adam. Most of what he remembered was lying in bed, watching television. People came in to draw blood and examine his legs, but for the most part didn’t talk to him much. His parents were with him almost constantly—they all but slept there. He was grateful for their company but he would have liked a little bit of privacy.

His mother spent the entire first two days crying. Then on the third day, she came in with her copy of the Bible. This proved to be even worse than the crying, because she insisted on reading him passages. “There must be a reason, Adam,” his mother said. “God made this happen for a reason.”

The Hardings had never been a religious family and Adam had only been to church a handful of times in his entire life. He thought it was kind of cheap for his mother to turn to religion as a last-ditch effort for comfort. Adam could tell that his father felt the same way, but they both endured the Bible passages if it kept her from crying.

Adam cried a lot too, but only after everyone was gone. He’d be all alone in his room, unable to sleep, and know that he couldn’t get up and take a walk if he wanted. He couldn’t do even simple things like walking up stairs or going dancing with a girl. It was like he had an entirely different life now. He was a cripple.

A nurse came in to cathe Adam’s bladder about twice a day. The first couple of times, he was still in a daze and barely knew what was going on. The first time Adam could clearly remember, a 70-year-old nurse came in while his parents were visiting with him. Without asking his permission or even giving him warning, she pulled back the covers and pulled down Adam’s diaper. Adam was horrified to see his crumpled penis exposed in front of both his parents (who thankfully looked away) and the old nurse proceeded to pass the catheter tube into his urethra. His father had given him a look of sympathy as his face turned bright red. Adam thought this was how it was going to be from now on, but luckily that nurse was just covering for another nurse. Most of the nurses were pretty sensitive to his privacy.

On the fifth day in the hospital, a nurse named Patty brought a wheelchair into Adam’s room. Adam stared at the chair as his stomach filled with dread. “Your doctor thought it might be good for you to eat in the dining room today,” Patty said.

“What?” Adam said.

“Well, you haven’t been out of your room all week,” Patty said. “So I asked your parents to wait in the dining room.”

Adam swallowed hard. “I... I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

Patty shook her head. “Don’t be silly, Adam. You’re going to be using this chair full time from now on. You have to start getting used to it.”

There was a knock on the door and Dr. Chang came inside. “How’s it going, Adam?”

“I really don’t feel like eating outside today,” Adam explained.

Dr. Chang frowned. “You should really try to. It isn’t healthy to stay in your room all the time.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Adam said hesitantly.

Chang nodded. “Go ahead.”

“I was just wondering,” Adam began, “if it would be possible for me to walk with, you know... with leg braces. I mean, if I really worked at it...”

“No, Adam,” Chang cut him off.

Adam’s face turned red. “But... I’ve seen people use braces to support their legs, so...”

“Your injury is too high up,” Chang explained. “If it were your lumbar spinal cord that was injured, then we could talk braces. But like I told you, you’re not going to be able to walk, even with support.”

“I see,” Adam murmured.

Dr. Chang exchanged glances with Patty. “Let me help you into the chair,” he said.

The doctor and nurse worked together to lift Adam out of bed and into the wheelchair. Once in the chair, Adam immediately started slipping and Patty had to belt him in. “If you’re in a chair that doesn’t have a belt,” Chang said, “you can use your arms for support so you don’t slump down.”

Patty wheeled Adam down the hall toward his room. It was the first time he had been out of his room when he wasn’t on a stretcher. Most of the people walking around seemed to be family members or faculty. He was on an orthopedic floor, so most of the people there had mobility problems.

When his parents saw him being wheeled into the dining hall, his mother started crying. “Oh, Adam,” she sobbed.

“You shouldn’t cry, Mrs. Harding,” Patty said. “Adam is doing really well.”

“I know,” his mother sniffled. She touched his arm. “You look good, honey.”

Adam didn’t answer her. He sat in his wheelchair and waited for Patty to bring over a tray of food for him.

“We’re fixing up the house, Adam,” his father said. “Everything is going to be wheelchair accessible by the time you get home.”

Adam imagined the renovations his parents might make. The front steps would have to be replaced with a ramp, everything would have to be lowered so that he could reach it, and he had no idea what they were going to do about the second floor. Adam’s room was on the second floor, and he supposed he wouldn’t be able to go up there anymore. He remembered that Maggie’s room was on the second floor of her house too, as if he needed any more evidence that their friendship was now over.

“We’re turning the den into your bedroom,” his father said, as if reading his mind.

“Okay,” Adam said quietly.

“Also, I know you’re not going to be going to college in the fall, but we thought maybe you could enroll at the local college for the spring semester,” his father suggested.

College. Adam had really been looking forward to going. It didn’t seem as exciting now that he was going to be starting college in a wheelchair.

“Tim, don’t bother him with that now,” his mother scolded tearfully.

“Why not? He still has to think about his future.”

“Adam, honey,” his mother said, “you can stay with us as long as you need to.”

His father shot her a look. Adam was grateful to have his father around. If it was up to his mother, he’d probably be living at home and unemployed for the rest of his life.

Adam took a bite of his dinner as his parents argued about what he’d be doing for the next year. He glanced across the dining hall and saw a man in his early thirties also sitting in a wheelchair, with a thick brace around his neck. The man had his arms folded in his lap and a woman was feeding him his dinner. A quadriplegic. Adam shivered at the thought that if his injury had been a little higher, he would have lost use of his arms too. As bad as things were, it definitely could have been worse. Much worse.


Roger was released from the hospital before Maggie, so he went to visit her in her room. She probably wouldn’t have allowed him to visit, but he asked her parents’ permission and they immediately said yes.

When Roger walked into the room, Maggie was lying on her bed, holding a magazine with her one good hand (the other was wrapped in a cast). Sometimes Roger was struck by how very beautiful Maggie was. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that she was the prettiest girl he had ever met in real life. She had dark hair and eyes that didn’t need mascara to bring them out. There was something so alluring about her. Roger might have fallen in love with her if he ever thought he had a snowball’s chance in hell with her.

Maggie lifted her beautiful dark eyes to meet his. “What are you doing here?”

“Your parents said I could come in.” Roger was somewhat proud of his treachery.

“This... isn’t the best time.”

“Oh, come on, Maggie,” Roger said. “Were you planning on avoiding me for the rest of your life?”

She looked away. “How could we still be friends after what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“It hurts me to even look at you,” Maggie said. “It just reminds me that... we took someone’s life.”

He had expected that sort of response from Maggie, but that wasn’t why he was here. “Look,” Roger said, “I don’t care how you treat me. You don’t have to see me ever again. But I don’t want you to do that to Adam.”

Tears welled up in Maggie’s eyes. “Have you seen Adam?”

“Not yet.”

“They told me he’s paralyzed,” Maggie said. “That he can’t... walk anymore. Is... is that true?”

Roger swallowed hard. “Yeah, that’s what I heard.”

“It’s all my fault,” Maggie sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

“It’s not your fault,” Roger said. “Jesus, it’s my fault. I’m the one who was driving.”

Maggie pulled a tissue of the nightstand by her bed and wiped her eyes. “The night of the accident,” she began, “Adam told me... that he loved me. He was so sweet. I... I rejected him.” She looked up at Roger with bloodshot eyes. “Not because I don’t love him. It was because... I didn’t want to lose him as a friend. And I knew that if we started dating, that was what would happen. The truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as much as Adam.”

“It’s not too late to tell him that,” Roger pointed out.

“Yes it is.”

Roger crossed his arms. “He’s not dead, he’s on the next floor.”

“I can’t.” She blew her nose into the tissue. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wish you would go see him.” Roger knew Adam would be crushed if Maggie didn't come to see him. And if situations were reversed, Adam would have spent every minute of his time nursing Maggie back to health, even if it meant postponing college.

Maggie held out her wrist to reveal a gold bracelet. She undid the clasp on the bracelet and dropped it into her other hand. “Roger, I want you to give this back to Adam.”

Roger took a step back. “No way. If I give that back to Adam, it will kill him.”

“Then throw it in the garbage,” Maggie said. “Do whatever you want with it. I don’t want it anymore.”

Roger reluctantly took the bracelet. “I’ll keep it for when you come to your senses.”

Maggie smiled sadly. “Tell Adam goodbye for me.”


Adam was in his room watching television when an older man in a white coat entered his room. Without asking, the man shut off the TV and faced Adam. “Hello, Adam,” the man said. “I’m Dr. Firth. I was called in on a consult because of the bladder problems you’ve been having.”

“Oh,” Adam said. Dr. Firth’s nature seemed cold and abrupt—not the sort of man Adam would have wanted to discuss something so personal with.

Dr. Firth flipped through Adam’s chart as he looked on quietly. The doctor clucked his tongue a few times. “All right,” he said. “Let’s have a look.”

Without asking permission, Dr. Firth yanked back the covers and pulled up the hospital gown Adam was wearing. He looked down at the diaper than Adam was wearing. “So you wear protective undergarments all the time?” Firth asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I see,” Firth said. “How often do they cathe you?”

“Uh... maybe every few hours, I’m not sure.”

Firth clucked his tongue. “This is something you should be keeping track of.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you leak a lot in between?” Firth asked.

“Yes.” Adam lowered his eyes. He wasn’t sure if the doctor wanted more details, but he didn’t want to say more than what was specifically asked.

“Well, let’s have a look,” Firth said. He took off the diaper, again without asking permission. Adam looked down and saw his crumpled penis lying between his legs. He didn’t have any sensation in it and he was afraid to ask if he ever would.

Firth examined his penis and testicles carefully. “Any feeling?” he asked.

“Not really,” Adam mumbled.

Firth raised an eyebrow. “Not really or not at all?”

“Not at all.”

“You’ve checked, I’d imagine...” Firth said with a nod. Even so, he insisted on testing the sensation with a large cue-tip. After several minutes, he seemed satisfied that Adam had no feeling whatsoever.

Finally, Firth replaced the diaper and returned to his chart. He started making notes without speaking to Adam.

“Um,” Adam mustered up all his courage, “so do I still have to wear this...?”

Firth put down his chart. “Let me explain something to you, Adam,” he said. “If we use an indwelling catheter, which will eliminate leakage, you’re at a higher risk of infection. We can try it, but I’d hate to see you in here with a fever of 105.”


“A lot of adults wear protective undergarments,” Firth went on. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nobody will know except you. I really think this is the best thing for you right now.”

The tone of Firth’s voice indicated that there was no room for discussion. The doctor had made his decision.

“Also,” Adam said, “I, uh... I haven’t been able to, uh... you know, get an... erection.”

Firth nodded. “Well, what do you expect?”

“It’s only been a week,” Adam said anxiously. “I thought maybe—”

“Adam,” Firth sighed. “I hope your doctor spoke to you about having realistic expectations. For a paraplegic with your sort of injury, living independently is a realistic expectation. Having normal sexual functioning is not.”


“The connection between your brain and your penis has been severed,” Firth explained. “So you will not be able to achieve an erection. Not now, not ever. It’s as simple as that.”

“Oh,” Adam said. He bit his lip hard. He didn’t want to start crying in front of this man.

“You’re fortunate that you’re young,” Firth said. “Yesterday I had to tell a 30-year-old man who was married less than a year that he wouldn’t ever be able to have intercourse with his wife again because of his injury. People like that adjust the worst. Young people, like children and teenagers, often adjust very well to their disabilities. Not being able to have sexual intercourse does not preclude the possibility of marriage. I can guarantee that in ten years from now, your disability will have completely assimilated into your identity. You probably won’t even remember what it was like before.”

“Yeah,” Adam muttered.

Firth shook his head, “I know you don’t believe me, Adam, but this isn’t the worst thing that could have happened to you.”

Firth made a few more notes in his chart then left the room as abruptly as he had entered. Adam stared ahead at the white hospital walls. He remembered how in high school all he had ever wanted to do was make love to Maggie. Now he would never be able to make love to Maggie or to anyone.

What girl would ever be interested in a guy who couldn’t be with her sexually? That was it, he was destined to be alone for the rest of his life.

In high school, it had been so damn easy to get girls. With the single exception of Maggie, they had fallen for him without him even having to try. He had always taken it for granted, as if it was a power he would always have. And now it was gone.

Adam started to cry.


Roger shifted in his seat, suppressing the urge to start pacing. Adam was his best friend in the whole world and right now he wouldn’t have minded if he never saw him again. Adam had every right to hate Roger and Adam was definitely one to hold a grudge. Back when they were in junior high school, Roger had lost Adam’s lucky catcher’s mitt and as a result, they didn’t speak for weeks. And this was a hell of a lot worse than losing a catcher’s mitt.

Roger looked up and saw his friend being wheeled into the waiting area. He was somewhat surprised to see that Adam looked the same as always. Same face, same build, just a little paler than usual. He was even dressed in normal clothes—a T-shirt and sweatpants. The only difference was that he couldn’t get up from that wheelchair he was sitting in.

“Hi Adam,” Roger squeaked. He cleared his throat.

The nurse who wheeled Adam into the waiting area patted him on the shoulder. “Have your friend bring you back to your room when you’re done.”

Adam stared ahead, looking through Roger rather than at him. Roger felt beads of sweat accumulating on his brow. The waiting area was nearly empty, except for a woman reading a magazine and her two kids playing on the floor. Roger focused his attention on the children, an attempt to avoid Adam’s glare.

“The doctor told me you had a concussion,” Adam spoke up. “I’m so sorry, that must have been awful.”

Roger swallowed. “Uh... I’m okay.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Look,” Roger said, “I’m really sorry. I... I didn’t know what I was doing that night. I didn’t mean for things to happen this way.”

“No kidding.”

“You’ll walk again,” Roger said. “I mean, that football player had a spinal injury and he was walking again. I’m sure you’ll—”

“No,” Adam interrupted. “I’m never going to walk again. The doctor told me it’s impossible.”

Roger looked at the floor. “I don’t know what to tell you. If it makes you feel any better, I’m probably going to prison for a long time.”

Adam frowned. “What?”

“I killed someone,” Roger explained. “My blood alcohol level was really high. They’ve got me for vehicular manslaughter. My lawyer told me I might serve ten years.” His lawyer had actually said: Ten years—if you’re lucky. Roger had started crying when he said that. He saw his whole future going down the toilet. And there was no way to get out of it, unless...

“I’m sorry, I guess,” Adam said.

“Yeah, right,” Roger muttered. “Admit it, you’re glad I’m going to jail.”

“I’m not glad,” Adam said quietly. “I’m angry about what happened, but...” Roger knew what Adam was thinking: Roger wouldn’t last ten minutes in prison.

“Look, it’s not your problem,” Roger said.

“Yeah,” Adam murmured. “Uh... have you seen Maggie?”

“I saw her once.” Roger had hoped the topic of Maggie McConnelly wouldn’t come up. He had tucked away her bracelet in his room.

“Um... is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Roger said. “At least one of us didn’t get our life wrecked, huh?”

Adam bit his lip. “You think... she’ll come visit me?”

Roger hesitated. “You know how Maggie is.” Maggie had a tendency to avoid any situation that was potentially uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I know,” Adam said. “I just thought she might... never mind.”

Adam was right. Maggie knew how much he wanted to see her and yet she still didn’t visit. Roger could see how hurt Adam was, but he knew there was nothing he could say to Maggie that would change her mind. She was so damn stubborn. It was that same attitude that kept her from resisting Adam’s advances all those years, even though she was crazy about him.

“I guess Maggie doesn’t want to see me like this,” Adam said. “I guess I don’t blame her.”

“You look fine,” Roger said weakly.

Adam glared at him. “Yeah, okay.”

From his peripheral vision, Roger saw the two playing kids getting dangerously close. All of a sudden, the smaller child fell backwards into Adam’s wheelchair. Adam jumped and his right foot slipped out of the footrest. His leg hung down limply. Adam reached down and moved his foot back into the rest. Roger watched the whole thing as he felt the blood rush out of his face.

When Adam looked up again, his cheeks were red with embarrassment. Roger realized that as hard as it was for him to see his friend crippled, it was even harder for Adam.

“I’m sorry things turned out so shitty for both of us,” Adam sighed.

“I wonder what it’s like in prison,” Roger said. “I... I can’t even imagine it.”

“Probably not too different from college,” Adam joked.

Roger looked away.

“Sorry,” Adam said quickly. “I... I wish there were something I could do...”

Those were the words Roger had been waiting for. “Well, actually, there is.”

Adam frowned. “What is it?”

Roger leaned forward. “See, the thing is, I got out of the car and you were thrown from the car. So nobody can really tell who was driving.”

“Yeah, so?”


Adam stared at him as he realized what Roger was asking. “You’re kidding me. No fucking way.”

“It’s not as big a deal as you think,” Roger said. “My lawyer said that because of... you know, the injury you suffered, you almost definitely wouldn’t serve time.”

“Let me get this straight,” Adam said. “Not only have you crippled me for life, but you also want me to take the blame for this?”

“I can’t go to prison, Adam.” Roger felt tears rising to his eyes.

“So you want me to go to prison?”

“I told you, you wouldn’t go to prison,” Roger said.

“Because I’m a paraplegic, right?” Adam shook his head. “This is unbe-fucking-lievable.”

“Please, Adam,” Roger’s tears were flowing freely now. “You’re my best friend in the whole world. They... they’ll kill me in prison.”

“But what if your lawyer’s wrong? What if I have to go to jail for ten years?”

“I’d never let that happen,” Roger said firmly. “I swear, I’d confess.”

Adam hesitated. “Let me think about it, okay?”

Roger nodded. He knew that coming from Adam, that answer was as good as a yes.

Adam looked down at his legs. “Can you please take me back to my room now?”

to be continued...