Staples was on his feet and hobbling away down the street before I could even sit up. I didn’t chase after him. For one, I was winded. And besides, what did it matter anymore? The damage was done. And even if I had caught him again, what would I do? He would beat me senseless.

I got up slowly at first, not really wanting to see the gory details down under the bridge. But then the thought of the briefcase possibly being safe and sound on the bank or still sealed and floating downstream fast practically jettisoned me onto my feet and over to the railing.

I peered over and saw the briefcase floating open and facedown in the creek below. It was quickly rushing away downstream, but even in the darkness of night I could see that it was a lost cause. Cash billowed out around it in the water, becoming soggy and eventually disappearing under the force of the black current.

The thought entered my mind briefly of running down there and diving in to salvage what I could, but then the idea drifted off as the briefcase rushed farther and farther away. It was just moving too fast. I didn’t think it would even be possible to catch up with it now. And even if I could save some of it, what would I do with it? This was an all-or-nothing sort of situation.

I stood there silently, peering over the railing, and watched as my fortune flowed away into the dark until I could no longer see any trace of it. As if all four thousand dollars of it had never even existed in the first place.

Who knows, maybe it hadn’t?

That was my state of mind in that moment. I was too shocked, too stunned, to be thinking clearly. To even be able to tell the difference between what was real or imagined.

I went down to the bank below and managed to salvage a few hundred dollars that had fluttered to shore in the breeze when the briefcase opened. I still owed money to a few of the kids who had helped me. I could at least make good on my debt to them. Then I walked back to my house. Along the way I debated just bowing out and letting happen whatever was going to happen. I thought about just cutting my losses and staying home from school for a year, letting Jimmy dig himself out of the grave he’d dug. But the problem with that was the rest of the school would suffer, too.

And beyond that, it wouldn’t be right. I mean, not necessarily because of whatever sabotage Kinko would unleash on our school, but more so just because, even after everything, I still had my business principles. I still believed there was a right way and wrong way to conduct business. And the right way was to face your own failures with some dignity and not go running away. I had made a business deal with Kinko, and it didn’t matter why I wasn’t able to keep my end of the deal. The fact was I hadn’t kept it, and I was going to have to face the consequences. It was the right thing to do. Once I faced Kinko and took responsibility, then whatever happened after that, well, that would be out of my hands at that point.

I got back to my house to find Great White lecturing Little Paul. He was so angry that he actually had Little Paul in tears. He stopped when he saw me approaching.

“Did you catch the git?”

I nodded.

“Where’s the money, then?”

I shook my head.

He strung off a whole bunch of swearwords—some that I recognized and some that were too British for me to understand, though I didn’t even need to in order to know that I couldn’t ever repeat them at school or in front of my parents.

“Go home,” I said to Little Paul, who was sniffing and wiping frantically at his tears, trying to save face.

He nodded and hopped on his bike and pedaled away as if he was running from something.

“Where’s Kevin?” I asked.

“Aw, that git ran like a bloody coward when Mitch and Justin jumped me,” Great White said. “We’re going to have a row about it tomorrow, me and him. Believe me.”

I shrugged. I didn’t really care either way anymore.

“Just don’t put him in the hospital or anything, okay?” I said.

“Ay,” Great White said. “Look, Mac, I’m sorry. They had the jump on me; there was nothing I could do. I tried yelling for you, but they . . . Well, it don’t really matter now do it?”

I shook my head. No, it didn’t. “It’s okay; you’re the one guy who actually did his job tonight. It’s not your fault.”

He nodded. “All right. Let me know if you need my help getting even or getting out of this or something.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Then he got on his bike and rode off, leaving me alone in my front yard.