Mrs. Wilson sat for a long time as the camera followed the little girl and her mother. Eventually, a reporter interviewed the girl, and Alonso translated what she said. “I didn’t do anything. The truck driver just turned the wheel.”
Mrs. Wilson grabbed the remote and paused the DVR when the camera panned closer to the little girl’s face. Mrs. Wilson sat, her eyes fixed on the little girl as if listening to more of what the child had to say.
I looked over at Jed, and he had the same sort of glazed look that his mom had. Mr. Wilson caught my eye and raised his eyebrows. I shrugged. I had no idea what was going on.
LaKeemba nodded toward the kitchen, and the rest of us headed toward the island, where Mr. Wilson got us some cheese and crackers and the glass bottles of soda the Wilsons kept
