"Rain."

The child turned around.

"Ms. Jordan?"

"Rain," said the principal to the sobbing child, "come with me."

Josie's protective maternal instincts kicked in.

"No," she said. "I'm taking my daughter home. Look at her. She doesn't need to be scolded or punished."

"Detective Sinclair," Ms. Jordan answered, "we have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to..."

Josie interrupted her.

"I don't give a..." she stopped herself, and changed what she'd been about to say. "I don't give a flea's
tush about your school policy right now. I am taking my child home NOW."

####

Toni touched Joe's arm. She did not say anything. Sometimes words are impossible to say, and would be useless.

"How many times," Joe choked out, "how many times have I had to tell someone their kid had been killed? How many
times did I have to tell someone that? But I never thought... I never thought that I would have to tell my wife... that...
that our son..."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Toni offered.

"Thanks, Toni, but this is something I need to do by myself."

####

Ten minutes later, Joe walked slowly, more slowly than he had ever walked since he was a baby just learning to walk,
into the kitchen at Carlino's. Paulina, humming to herself, was preparing the food for the lunchtime crowd. She turned
around. One look at Joe's face told her that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Joe. What happened?" she asked fearfully.

"Honey, there's been an accident. Somehow... Rain Sinclair got ahold of Josie's gun and..."

"Is Rain... is she..."

"It's not Rain. It's..."

Paulina knew what Joe's next word was going to be. She knew which name he was going to speak."

"No," she whispered.

Joe nodded.

Paulina's next "No" was a scream of absolute anguish.

"I don't think," Joe said, trying to comfort both Paulina and himself, "I don't think Dante felt anything... he died instantly."

####

Josie got Rain home and put her to bed.

"Try to sleep," she whispered.

"How can I?" Rain moaned. "I killed Dante. I killed my best friend. What can I do? What can I do?"

"All we can do," Josie said, "is go to the people we've hurt, and... ask them to forgive us. And, Sunshine,
this was more my fault than yours. If only I hadn't left my gun on the dresser."

If only. If only.

Was there ever a more futile, useless expression in the English language?