Only his own words, freely given, believing himself unheard, would bury him deep enough that Cody could grow up without checking the locks.

I was not being brave for its own sake.

I was doing the same cold arithmetic I did at work, weighing a bad hour against a safe childhood, and the arithmetic was not close.

Porter had chosen the truth and it had cost him his life.

I could choose it and, if the team in the dark did their job, walk back out.

It seemed, standing in the rain, like the smallest possible price for the largest possible thing.