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did this, they’d be compensated by their policies. He wouldn’t be harming anyone. He had to do this for his father.

Taking a calming breath, he aimed the gun at the lock on the door. If he could damage the lock enough, he could let himself in. He wrapped two hands around the gun’s handle and flipped off the safety with his thumb. His pointer finger curled around the trigger, and he fired.

The sound of the gunshot startled him, reminding him of when the gun had gone off and wounded David. He managed to keep control of the gun even through the recoil. A loud ping of metal on metal rang through the air, and he realized he’d had beginner’s luck: the bullet had busted the handle, and the metal seemed to be held together by a thread. The glass surrounding the handle had shattered, leaving a starburst hole around the doorframe. The door swung open when Matthew pushed on it. A broad grin spread across his lips as he let himself into the darkened store.

“Good idea,” he told the ghost of his wife, “but I’m not sure I’ll mention this to you when I see you again.”

I know you. You’ll spill the beans, Kathleen told him in his head. Now get a move on. You don’t have much time.

28

The glass crunched underfoot as Matthew gently closed the gas station door behind him. It seemed incredibly fragile, and shards that still clung to the starburst hole tinkled together before finally falling to the ground. Matthew thought it somewhat resembled falling snow, in a way, especially when the sunlight refracted off it. He realized again how lucky he had been—despite shooting the door open, he never thought about the bullet ricocheting and hitting him or something else. He’d put himself in incredible danger without understanding the consequences of his actions. Which was probably why he should have gun safety training as soon as possible.

At this point, though, it didn’t matter. He had a purpose. His father’s life was on the line. Get in, get out.

The sun provided just enough light for him to move around the darkened interior of the store. It was a smaller convenience store with a row of refrigerators lining one wall, full of soft drinks, beer, and chilled coffee. The cashier’s counter was at the front, next to the door. He counted about seven aisles. Cardboard display stands advertising a new soda flavor or candy blocked some of them. Guilt started to build inside him as he remembered the empty shelves of the pharmacy. This was thievery, plain and simple. He’d broken and entered into a store with intent. Yet at the same time, he was desperate. David needed treatment, and while Matthew knew his actions were wrong, he couldn’t risk his father’s life. There was no one who could help them. Candy and aspirin could be replaced. There was only one David.

Matthew carefully scanned the aisles, finding the limited shelves of medical supplies filled with many different medications and so many different dosages. He’d said it before and he’d say it again: he wasn’t a medical professional. He had no idea what would be the right medicine to help combat a fever and infection while at the same time keeping his father’s heart healthy and beating. He selected the bottles that indicated they were tried and true ‘fever reducers’ and then all the aspirin available, as well as the remaining bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He analyzed an arm sling with uncertainty and finally stuffed it in his bag. He didn’t want to steal more than he had to, but at the same time he didn’t want to be sorry later that he hadn’t taken everything he thought might be needed. Gauze, cotton balls, antibacterial ointment, and medical tape also ended up in his bag. You never know when you might need all these things, he told himself.

When he was done, he surveyed the now almost bare medical shelves with a wry smile. This could definitely be considered raiding. But it was for his father, he reminded himself. His father who could die otherwise. He needed it. He wasn’t taking all of these things to sell them or lord it over others. This was all for his father.

Afterwards, he began searching the aisles for different kinds of foods beyond the carb-heavy power bars and the empty calories of chips and chocolate. He’d never been a salad-lover, and had looked down his nose at preparing celery sticks or broccoli for snacks many times in the past, but the idea of eating something green made his mouth water. What he’d give to have—god help him—Kathleen’s kale chips.

He spied bags of carrots in one of the darkened refrigerators next to the juices, and decided to take them. He also loaded almond tins, sunflower seeds, hummus and pretzel packages, and dried banana chips into his bag, along with Vitamin Water and Gatorade. The electrolytes would be good for David, and anything vitamin-infused would help both of them. Soon enough, his bag bulged with his spoils, and he zipped it up with a self-deprecating shake of the head.

Before, he’d fought Jade over stealing and overfilling their backpacks because of the weight, and yet here he was, doing the same thing. Still, it would be worth it in the long run. Hopefully, he could get David to eat some of the healthier options instead of the crap they’d been devouring on their trip. Even though his bag was heavy, he figured it would be fine if he was the one carrying the weight. It would be a good thing to nourish themselves with healthy foodstuffs, instead of just junk food.

Slinging the bag over his shoulders, he tightened the straps and began picking his way toward the door. As soon as he placed his hand on the doorframe to push it open again, something caught his eye and he froze. A dark shape was reflected on the glass, some kind of large amorphous blob

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