Losing Faith Read Online Free Page B

me.
    Skinny Cop, thankfully, directs the next question to Dad. “Did you know she’d be up on Blackham Mountain last night? Does she regularly go up there?”
    “Well, no.” Dad runs a hand over his face and stretches out the skin on his jaw. “She was going to youth group. They must have had a special event of some kind up the mountain. She has a close-knit group of friends and they always look out for …”
    The room falls silent. We all know we can’t blame Celeste, or any of Faith’s other friends. Accidents happen. I’m glad I’ve heard something that makes sense for the first time tonight though. The youth group went to the mountain. Faith had to drop off her car because my five bucks wasn’t enough to get her up there.
    “We spoke with someone at the scene—er, on the mountain,” Pock-face says. “From what we’ve heard so far, Faith went for a walk alone. No one was close by when she fell, but her scream was heard in the nearest subdivision.”
    Trying not to visualize this, I grip the coat rack.
    “So the youth pastor wasn’t there?” Dad asks.
    The cop shakes his head. “Only minors present.”
    “Have you ever known Faith to use alcohol or drugs?” Skinny Cop asks.
    “No. Never.” Dad shakes his head with a scowl, but in a way the question is a relief. It makes obvious just how routine these questions are. In fact, even the idea of Faith drinking or doing drugs makes the whole situation seem completely ridiculous. Like it isn’t even happening.
    Mom’s stooped position hasn’t changed since she sat down. Her shoulders appear rigid, like if she tries to straighten up they might break.
    Skinny Cop’s voice sounds abrupt in the stillness. “Is there anything that might lead you to believe that Faith would take her own life?”
    Mom lets out a gasp, and the shock of her sound hinders my ability to process the question for a second.
    “Suicide?” Dad shakes his head roughly. “No way. Not Faith.”
    I can tell by Dad’s tone, he isn’t feeling the same relief at these over-the-top questions as I am. “You’re kidding, right?” I add.
    “These are all standard questions.” Pock-face runs a handdown the arm of the love seat. “As soon as we get through them, we’ll be able to get out of your way.”
    “Faith didn’t believe in … she would never have …” Dad is processing aloud.
    Skinny Cop clears his throat, standing. “No, no. Again, Mr. Jenkins, we’re not trying to imply anything. We’d like to see her room if you don’t mind, and—”
    “No!” Dad shouts. “We will not listen to this … garbage. Why don’t you two officers come back when you get your facts straight, and stop putting my family through this cruel charade.” While he speaks, he marches toward the door, obviously expecting them to follow.
    They do. “Mr. Jenkins,” Pock-face starts, but Dad doesn’t let him finish.
    “I said we’ve had enough for today, gentlemen.”
    The two cops look at each other, and a subtle agreement passes between them. “We’re very sorry again for your loss, Mr. Jenkins … Mrs. Jenkins,” the skinny one says as they back out the door.
    After the cops leave, we spend a few minutes staring after where their squad car disappeared around the corner. Dad squeezes my shoulder and even though I notice his hand there, I barely feel it. Barely feel anything. Everything is surreal, including my parents, who blend into the wall behindthem like a mural. But then I notice Mom’s intense shivering and she comes to life again in my vision. Dad moves beside her and slides an arm around her shoulder.
    “How was she … when you left her?” Dad asks me, not meeting my eye. Mom’s shivering turns into quiet crying spasms.
    I swallow. “Fine. Good,” I say, holding my face straight so they won’t see through me. Faith might have been a little stressed, but not suicidal stressed. And my parents don’t need to work themselves up any more right now.
    Dad’s eyes flitter between