Page 11 of Second Story

“Almost. Me getting assigned to Noah means it’s coming.” I’m jostled by sheep until he whistles. A black-and-white streak of canine lightning parts this bleating sea and Marc and I meet in the middle, where he shows me ID that is barely necessary.

“I kept hoping that Noah?—”

“Wouldn’t get called to give evidence? That the case would get dropped?” I shake my head. “Not a chance. It’s going ahead.” This is what I’m really here for. “Your brother’s gonna need all the support he can get.”

“He’s got plenty.” His chin lifting is a real Isaac reminder. “Yes, he didn’t have the best of home circumstances, or me there to fight his battles. Wintergreen is?—”

“Tough on kids?” I nod. “I get it.”

He nods too. “I’m here for him now, so I’m telling you that Noah has already given a statement. He doesn’t know anything more about what happened to him.”

That’s what all my clients tell their families.

Fuck it, it’s what I told my own—yeah, the kid who threw acid at me served time, but there’s no way that nineteen-year-old me could have spilled who gave the order and then stood back to watch, especially with no support to face him across a courtroom if I’d named names. It’s a big ask. A huge one, and Noah Emerson is three years younger than I was. The poor kid already caught a knife through the heart for being in the wrong place at the worst time. This has got to feel like another blade hanging over his head.

“I get that you’re protective.” That’s another Isaac reminder. “Noah got caught up in gang violence. Got hurt.” I’m as blunt as my own brother. “Attempted murder can’t be swept under the carpet.” I push up the sleeves of my suit jacket to show off my own credentials. “Like I said. I get it, Marc. Yes, he’ll be called to testify, but I can help negotiate the process.”

“Like?”

“Like applying for anonymity methods. Courtroom screens, maybe, or video contributions with face and voice distortion. There are plenty of ways for him to give evidence from a dist?—”

“He doesn’t have any more evidence to give.”

“He still needs to know his options.” And I need to voice what family members never want to hear from me. “Some kids do better offloading their worries on a stranger.” Looking back, I wish I’d had someone to spill my guts to. “And some only really start to put the past behind them after having their moment in court.” We already share the same accent, so I speak plainly. “He got knifed. Giving him the chance to look whoever did that in the eye means?—”

“That he’ll stop sleeping at night all over again?” My second protective big brother of the morning spits that. Or the third big brother if I count Josh, who beat me to birth by only minutes. This one is easily as abrupt as him. “Almost all of Noah’s blood drained out in a stairwell. You really think he wants to relive that?”

I feel him right down to my bone marrow. Who wouldn’t try to shield a sibling? I still need to say, “It could mean he gets some kind of closure.” I shoot a look at my own old wounds, then lay bare pain that I’ll never escape. “Take it from someone who knows, there’s no letting go of the past when you hold back.”

Like I’ve had to.

Tell Josh which Wintergreen top boy gave the order to leave me a marked man?

Someone would have ended up dead, and I couldn’t risk it being him even if I didn’t know Josh had his heart set on working alongside the police back when we were nineteen. If he’d taken the law into his own hands based on my best guess and zero hard evidence, his future would have been ruined too.

Sheep jostle me again, following the herd like I did back when I thought I knew so much better. Turned out, I knew nothing. At least I can sound sure about this. “Your brother is staying here long term?”

He nods. “For as long as he needs. Forever, if I had my way. He loves helping on the farm. Not so keen on the celebrations we host at our wedding venue, too many people, but he can work here for life if he wants. He doesn’t ever have to go back.”

“Then he has a real chance to leave behind what happened to him for good.”

This nod is tight. Abrupt. It also comes with a deep sigh. “Noah goes by my married name instead of my stepdad’s. Luxton instead of Emerson.” I shake the hand he offers. “You were planning on talking to him without me?”

At least that’s one worry I can nip in the bud. “I’d like to talk to him today, but I understand from his social worker that he declined to meet me.”

Marc nods.

“That’s why I’m here to take impact statements from his teachers and get a feel for how he’s doing.” I mention the role Imiss the most. “I’m heading to his school now to meet the head of pastoral care. Noah won’t even know I’m there. Once I’ve got everything written up, I’ll come up with a strategy to make this as easy as possible for him.” I need him to hear this. “I’m court appointed, but I’m one hundred percent here for your brother, not for the police. He isn’t the one on trial.”

That seems to make a difference. Marc murmurs what sounds to be a difficult admission. “Listen, you aren’t the only one he doesn’t want to talk to. The school says he might be shutting down any conversations about what happened as a coping strategy. And they’ve noticed a few other issues since he started at Glynn Harber.” He’s quickly defensive. “If he is autistic, like they’re investigating, I would have got him help way sooner.” He scrubs his face with his hands, freckles stark against sudden paleness. “I didn’t know. I still don’t. Not for sure.”

I mentally review the case notes I already gathered. “You didn’t live together when he was younger?”

“Not all the time. He’s just Noah to me, you know? Bright as hell. Mad about footy and his dogs. They’re saying some kids cope right up until they can’t. Mask when they’re struggling. If that’s what he’s doing now, it means he’s been struggling for a while. The school say there are loads of ways to help, just as soon as everyone is on the same page.”

I’m no child development specialist. That job title belongs to my sister-in-law. “I have a contact who might have some resources. Some tools for families. Want me to get some to you?”

“What I want is for all of this to go away. For him.”

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