Page 35 of Not Quite Dead Yet

Luke threw a corner of bacon at Jet, and the baby squealed in delight.

‘I was at home, like I told the cops,’ he said, half sullen, half smiling. ‘Me and Sophia got home around 10:15 and put Cameron to bed. Then we watched some TV.’

‘Which show?’ Jet asked, eating the small bacon projectile that had landed in her lap.

‘Friends,’ Luke said. ‘Sophia lovesFriends.’

‘Then we went to bed,’ Sophia added, wiping the green goo from Cameron’s face.

‘So you two were together all night?’ Jet pointed her fork at them. ‘And, Mom and Dad, you were together, driving stuff from the fair back to storage at the MC offices?’ She clapped her hands. ‘Well, it looks like you all have alibis, then.’ Jet turned to the baby, accused him with her knife. ‘Cameron, what about you?’

He blew a bubble.

‘Don’t we know who it is already, Jet?’ Dad said, dragging his fork through his untouched eggs. ‘They’ve just got to find him.’

‘Who?’ Luke demanded.

‘JJ.’

Luke turned to Jet. ‘It was JJ?’ The rage undisguised in his voice, and in his fists, gripping the table too hard.

‘No, we don’t know,’ Jet said. ‘He’s just skipped town, won’t answer his phone.’

‘And the text,’ Dad said. ‘TheSorrytext.’

‘I’ll kill him.’ Luke slammed one hand on the table, making the cutlery jump and the baby flinch.

‘Luke, please,’ Sophia said. ‘Not in front of Cam.’

‘No one is killing anybody,’ Mom said, voice rising, taking charge. ‘I don’t know why we’re talking about any of this, wasting time. You all know why you’re here.’

Did they? Jet looked around at her family. Whywerethey here?

‘Jet.’ Mom twisted in her chair, knees pointed this way, her voice soft and hard at the same time. ‘It’s our last chance. DrLee said it would be too late once the aneurysm forms. If we want to save you, we need to take you back to the hospital now, right now. This morning. Right now. Please. The whole family agrees.’

Jet’s stomach twisted, the toast suddenly tasteless in her mouth.

‘Do you,whole family?’ Jet announced across the table. ‘You think I don’t get to make decisions about my life, about my death? That you know better than me? You can’t understand for one fucking second what it’s like to have to make a choice like that. Fuck. And Sophia, I swear to god if you say anything about my language …’

None of them would look at her, except Mom, and the baby.

‘I’m not choosing to die on the operating table. The answer is no. Sorry,whole family.’ The answer was no, and the other answer was that pain above her right eye – new this morning – which might mean it was too late anyway, the choice out of her hands. Certainly out of her mom’s hands.

‘Fine.’ The chair screeched on the oak floor as Mom stood up, marched over to the sideboard.

‘I went to the funeral home this morning, picked these up.’

She came back to the table, dropped two brochures in front of Jet with a slap.

Jet looked down at them.

One for caskets, every shade of wood, varnished and shining.

The other for urns.

‘What the fu–’ Jet began.

‘– Mom.’ Luke buried his face in his hands. ‘You can’t do th–’

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