Aaron's third birthday came and went. Roger's parents had retired to Florida and weren't able to fly up. Aaron talked to them on the phone and thanked them for the tiny guitar they'd sent him. Roger began teaching him how to play.

Roger was at the store, picking up guitar strings for Aaron, when he ran into Pete. The drummer saw him first.

"Davis! Holy shit, man!"

Roger turned and smiled to see his old friend. "Pete. What's goin' on?"

"Man, it has been too long. You got a minute?"

Roger shrugged. "Sure."

"Come on."

Roger's eyebrows knotted together, confused, but he followed Pete out of the store and into the alleyway beside it.

"What?"

Pete reached into his pocket and pulled out a little bag. "I started pushin'—give you a discount, as a friend."

Roger shook his head. "I don't do that shit anymore. I thought you quit too."

"I did."

"And what happened?"

"I got my head outta my ass. This shit makes me feel like a million bucks and sellin' it makes me damn near that much."

"I-I need to go."

"One hit," Pete said. "For old times' sake?"

Roger shook his head and turned to leave. Pete's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He pressed a small bag into his pocket.

"I don't—"

"Just in case. No charge. Just think of it as an insurance policy…in case you ever need a little getaway."

He didn't plan to use it. The drive home, Roger told himself he would dump it as soon as he got home. The more he thought about it, though, the more Pete's words echoed in his head. Insurance policy. An insurance policy. Just in case. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Maureen and Aaron were coloring at the kitchen table. "Hi, honey."

"Daddy get my guitar strings?"

Shit. He'd forgotten the guitar strings. "No, buddy, they didn't have the right kind."

Aaron shrugged. "Okay. Wan' color with me and Mommy?"

"In a minute, okay?"

Roger went to the bathroom. He pulled the baggie from his pocket and set it on the counter, staring at it. Just a little hit. One quick short hit and then he'd hide the rest. An insurance policy. He dumped a tiny bit of powder into the palm of one hand and snorted it. The rush was immediate and almost as good as the first time he'd used. Roger forced himself to put the baggie back in his pocket and rejoined Maureen and Aaron.

Roger came home from work a few days later and saw Aaron sitting on the couch.

"Hey, little man. What're you doing?"

"Waitin' for Mommy."

"For Mommy?"

Aaron nodded. "Suppose-a wait here and then we gon' go on a trip."

"A trip?"

Must be a new game. Roger smiled and ruffled his hair before heading down the hall to their room.

"Maureen! I'm home!"

He pushed open the door to their room and saw a suitcase on the bed. Maureen was shoving clothes into it, hardly bothering to fold them.

"Baby? What's goin' on?"

Maureen turned to face him as she threw another shirt into the suitcase. "You lied."

"What?"

She pointed at the nightstand. Roger's jaw tightened when he saw the bag on the nightstand. He'd bought it from Pete the day before and must've forgotten to hide it under the floor with the rest of his insurance. He wasn't even planning to use this bit—it was just to make up for what he'd already used. You had to have the whole insurance policy for it to have a purpose, right?

"You lied," she said again.

"I can explain."

"Don't bother. We're leaving."

Roger's heart dropped. "Maureen, no…please, no, I—"

"You swore to me. You swore you wouldn't do this shit anymore. I'm not raising our son with a junkie."

"It's not like that. I can quit! I can quit any time I want!"

Maureen shook her head and threw the last of her things into the suitcase and zipped it shut.

Roger grabbed her arm. "Maureen, please—"

She shook off his arm, picked up the suitcase, and carried it to the living room. Roger hadn't noticed Aaron's little suitcase on the floor beside the sofa. Aaron watched his parents carefully.

"Daddy? You comin' with us to Gramma's?"

Roger shook his head, choking back tears. "No, buddy. This one's just you and Mommy."

"How come you crying, Mommy?"

Maureen knelt down. "Mommy's just a little sad, honey."

"Because Daddy's not coming?"

She forced a nod. "Yeah."

Maureen stood up.

"Maureen, please don't do this," he said quietly.

"Aaron, say goodbye to Daddy."

Aaron hopped off the couch and flung his arms around Roger. "Bye Daddy. I love you!"

"Bye, little man. I love you too."

Aaron headed for the door, waiting patiently for Maureen. She picked up the suitcases and looked Roger in the eye. "Get help. Get clean. Then we'll talk."

When they'd gone, when they'd actually driven away with their suitcases and without him, Roger fell against the door. He brushed away his tears and went to the bedroom. A minute later, he'd filled a needle and tied off. He sighed and injected it into his bloodstream.

The drunk driver barreled into the car. They both cried out before everything went black.