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Dad winked. “With a great deal of persuasion.”

“Well, shite.” I blew out a breath, impressed. “Remind me never to go against you.”

“It’s not all good news,” Dad warned, turning his steely-blue gaze on Joey. “You have been expelled from Ballylaggin Community School. Apparently, you were on your final warning following seven suspensions this year alone and countless others tracing all the way back to your first week of first year.” Dad pulled at his tie, loosening it. “I did what I could, Joey, but they’re not budging. Committing an act of violence against another school while wearing your BCS uniform is against their policy and punishable by immediate expulsion.”

Joey shrugged wearily. “It’s okay.”

“Okay?” I gaped at him. “But you’re supposed to sit your leaving cert next month!”

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

“Yeah, it does,” I shot back. “It does fucking matter.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere anyway,” he replied. “So it’s all the same to me.”

“What the hell, Joey?” I snapped. “This is important.” Turning to my father, I asked, “Is there anything you can do for him?”

Dad sighed. “My hands are tied, son. Joey here has a record for violence that makes Gibsie look like a saint. They’re unwilling to negotiate having him return to school—not even to sit his exams.”

“What about Tommen?” Mam interjected.

“Tommen is private, sweetheart,” Dad replied.

“Another public school then?” I offered.

“Not in the area,” Dad replied. “Nothing public, at least.”

“Then the city?”

“No school will touch me with a ten-foot barge pole,” Joey said flatly. “Your dad’s right, Kavanagh. My record is shocking, no one’s going to want me, and it doesn’t matter anyway because I don’t care. So don’t waste your breath talking about it.”

I looked to my father who confirmed this with a small nod.

“Jesus,” I muttered, dropping my head in my hands. “What a disaster.”

“Can I use your bathroom, please?” Joey asked as he rose from the stool and looked at my mother.

“Of course you can, Joey,” Mam replied, tone thick. “You don’t have to ask, love.”

Nodding stiffly, he walked toward the hallway door, only to hesitate in the doorway. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice, glancing over his shoulder. “For everything.”

“No problem, Joey,” Dad replied. “Remember what we said. The offer’s on the table and it has no expiration date.”

Nodding stiffly, Joey muttered, “I’ll think about it,” before disappearing down the hallway. The sound of the front door slamming reverberated through the house a few seconds later.

“Don’t,” Dad warned, stopping Mam who was moving for the door. “Just let him be, Edel.”

“Who’s going to take care of him?” Mam demanded, swinging around to glare at my father. Her eyes were full of unshed tears and her voice was thick with emotion. “Well? His own mother couldn’t be arsed to show up to the Garda Station to check on him, John, and his father’s a psychopath.” Her shoulders sagged and she sighed heavily. “There’s something very special about that boy, but he’s lost, and if somebody doesn’t step up and do something, he’ll never find his way back.”

“I hear you, sweetheart, I really do. But he’s legally an adult.”

“He’s achild, John,” Mam choked out, sounding fiercely protective. “He’s a broken little boy trapped in a grown man’s body, and he needsus.”

“Edel, I know—”

“They’re not a pick and mix,” Mam continued to rant, not giving my father a chance to speak. “You don’t get to pick and choose your favorites and leave the rest in the box. There’s five of them, and broken, bent, or out of shape, I want themall!”

“The Lynchs?” Awareness hit me smack in the chest and my jaw fell open. “You’re taking them?”

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