LATER, THE FRONT DOOR OPENS, and my dad and mom walk in. My dad has his arm around my mom’s waist. Sara and Holden both stand up to go to her, but my dad waves them off and leads her through the living room and up the stairs. When he comes back down, he sits next to Holden and puts his hand on his knee. He breathes in and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak, but nothing comes out. Sara moves closer to him and leans into his side. He puts his free arm around her and makes a choking sound.

Sara lifts her head and looks at my dad. “Why?” she asks.

My dad shakes his head. His voice is so quiet, it’s like a whisper. “They think that whatever happened is related to when he fell yesterday.”

Flashes of Charlie lying so still on the pavement flick through my mind. How he looked up at me through his tears. But then he jumped right up! He was fine!

“They think he must have hit the back of his head,” my dad says. “And it caused a blood clot that went to his brain. If . . . If we had just taken him to the hospital yesterday . . . Maybe . . . Oh God . . .”

Holden looks at me. “How hard did he fall, Fern?”

Sara and my dad are looking at me now, too.

The Big Bad Wolf.

“He . . .” I start to say. “I didn’t see . . .” My face starts to burn. I can feel them accusing me. I let him run in the parking lot. It’s all my fault.

“He was OK!” I say desperately. “He got right up! He ran! He — he wasn’t even hurt!”

“Then why? How could this happen?” Holden stands up and starts pacing, pressing his fingers against his temples.

“They said these kinds of injuries are some sort of fluke,” my dad explains. “The brain can hit against the skull just the wrong way and cause a concussion. Or something.”

“I didn’t know he was going to run!” I yell. “I didn’t know he was playing a game with me! He just took off!”

They all stare at me.

My body is tingling all over. I feel like I am turning inside out.

“We know, Fern,” my dad says. “It’s not your fault.”

“He just ran away from me! I didn’t know what he was doing!”

Sara starts to cry again.

“He and Doll were playing! I was just doing my homework!” I yell louder because Sara won’t look at me, and I know that must mean she blames me. “Mom should’ve taken him to the hospital! He should’ve had X-rays! Charlie never complains when he’s hurt. Mom should have known!” I choke on the unforgivable words.

“Shut up!” Sara screams, finally facing me. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“Stop it!” Holden yells. “It’s no one’s fault!” He pulls at his hair, then looks up at the ceiling. Up where my parents’ room is. Where my mom is.

My dad reaches out and takes Holden’s hand. Sara hides her face against his shoulder again. And I still sit alone.

“Come here, Fern,” my dad says quietly. “It’s no one’s fault.”

But I just shake my head and pull my knees to my chest so I can hide my own face. No, I keep thinking. No.