"We get to go with you, right?" Conner asked Lou.
He seemed to ponder the question, but Stella said, "They should."
"I wasn't gonna flat out say no," Lou replied. "I was just wondering how seeing Jared's bedroom again might affect the guys."
"We'll be fine," Trevor said. "We want answers just like you do. And once we know the whole story, it'll be easier for us to accept everything that's happened."
Adam agreed. "There's no school tomorrow anyway. So we're all going together."
Lou walked the guys to the parking lot. Once they arrived at the car, he lit a cigarette and thanked them for their time. "We're all doing a great job putting this story together. And you guys should be proud of yourselves."
Adam, cheeks pink from the cold, hugged his peacoat to his torso. "I feel better, now that it all makes more sense to me."
"Yeah," Trevor said. "Doesn't change what happened. But I feel better too."
Conner breathed into his cupped hands. "I guess I do. I still feel like I need to know what the priest says. And about the etching on the floor. Then I'll believe that we know all we need to know."
Nodding in understanding, Lou said, "Tomorrow will be a big day. I'll let you guys know as soon as we're done speaking to Father O'Leary. Then we'll see you in the afternoon."
Conner opened the driver's door, then paused. Looking back at Lou, he said, "Thank you."
"No, thank you," Lou replied. "Like I said, we're doing good work, and you guys should be proud of yourselves."
Puffing on his cigarette, he watched the boys drive down the street and then turn at the corner. He and Stella still had to discuss the interview with Father O'Leary. With her departure on Wednesday, they couldn't afford to have holes in the priest's account of the possession and the exorcism. They needed every detail they could get.
As he finished smoking, he thought of the production deal with the cable network. He desperately wanted the Jared Smith story to snag the producer's interest. Yet he also wanted Conner, Adam, and Trevor to have some sort of closure at the end of the investigation. A couple days ago, he'd perceived the boys as arrogant, entitled, jock punks. Now he viewed them as good kids who'd also suffered because of what had happened to Jared. And when all was said and done, he wanted to provide them with a degree of comfort and understanding. It was both the least and the best he could do. After all, he'd promised them nothing. But for once, he decided he couldn't leave an investigation without giving something valuable in exchange for what he'd taken.
During the drive to Trevor's house, no one said much of anything. But when Conner turned onto Trevor's street, he asked, "You guys think the seizure–seeing–the–devil stuff was just a mass hysteria thing like Lou said?"
"Yeah," Adam said. "The way he and Stella explained it, it makes sense. Don't you think?"
Conner's mood brightened at the thought. "Well, it gives me hope that the shadows and nightmares are basically just because of the stress and drama of it all. It's causing us to imagine stuff that really didn't exist in the first place."
"I hope so," Trevor said. "I seriously don't want to have nightmares again. I can handle a few more, but then it all needs to just disappear."
Conner parked the car along the curb. He slapped his hand firmly onto Trevor's shoulder. "I'm sorry I got upset with you earlier."
"It's okay."
"I know it's okay. But I want you to know I'm sorry. I love you, man. Nothing's going to tear the three of us apart."
Trevor raised a fist. "Brothers."
"Always and forever." Conner bumped fists with Trevor.
Outside the car, Trevor leaned in through the passenger window. "I'll come over in the morning."
"See you then," Conner replied.
Adam situated himself in the front seat, then called out to Trevor, "Hey! Sweet dreams."
On the porch, Trevor hollered back, "You too, bro."
* * *
When Conner returned home, his family was nearly finished with dinner, their plates decorated with the remnants of brown gravy, small clumps of mashed red potatoes, and stray peas. "Roast beef," his mother said as he sat at the dining room table. "Did you guys eat out?"
"No." He tugged the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows. "I'm not really that hungry," he said, dropping two slices of beef onto his plate.
"What took you so long?" his father asked.
"We got our stuff and then we met with Lou."
"That paranormal investigator?"
"Yeah. We talked about stuff, and he answered our questions. So, I think we all feel better about everything."
His mother set Mason's empty plate on top of hers. "That's good. But how did Lou help you accomplish that?"
"Just answering our questions. The whole thing with Jared is so surreal, it's hard to understand."
"I'm not sure I believe it," she said with an air of polite delivery.
"Mom, I'm sure a lot of people think the whole possession story is a bunch of BS. Fine, so be it. But there's a lot more to the story. So, right now, it only matters that we feel better. It doesn't matter what other people think."
"Would you care to share that story with us?"
"No," he snapped. "I'm sorry. It's just been a crazy week. Right now, I want to talk about something else."
Conner expected his words to swathe the room with a veneer of tension, like a dense fog that hovered inches above their heads. But it didn't materialize.
His mother smiled kindly. "Then let's talk about Thanksgiving. We're going to have a full house on Thursday. I'm going to need your boys' help with a few things."
Mason groaned. "Oh, jeez. Like what?"
"Well .
