“Yes, al right.”
“And I’l cal you tonight, fil you in on everything, and you can let me know how you’re doing.”
They talked a little bit longer until Hannah saw Sean coming back out of the building. He waved at her. Hannah waved back, held up one finger in a wait gesture. She ended the cal with her mother, then quickly cal ed Jan and explained the situation. The other woman agreed to go to the house and cook dinner and to visit three times a day for the next couple of days. Hannah said she would check in as soon as she could, then hung up and joined Sean.
“You okay?” he asked, giving her a sideways look.
“Yes, yes. Fine.”
“Everything okay with your mom?”
For a split second she blanked about the cancer story and was struck dumb, thinking irrational y that he had somehow overheard her conversation. Then memory came back.
“Uh . . . she had a bad night, but she’s okay. She’s reading.”
“That’s good. Good that she’s feeling okay today, I mean, and up to reading.” Sean took her bag from her and put it in the trunk of his car. They climbed in and he started the engine. “It can’t be easy for you,” he said. “You know, Rob’s a workaholic, but don’t let him push you around. If you need to be with your mom you need to tel him that. He’l have to deal with it.”
“No. It’s okay. My mom . . . she wants me to live my life. I want to be with her, of course, but she gets upset if she thinks I’m giving up opportunities to be with her.”
“I hear you. My mom is exactly like that. Independent as al get out. Hates it when I try to take care of her. Makes it hard to celebrate her birthday, or Mother’s Day.”
For a moment Hannah thought he was being sarcastic, but his expression was entirely sincere. “Real y?”
“Sure. I mean, obviously, it’s different for me. My mom’s not sick.
And I get back to see her a couple of times a semester. It must be real y hard for you.” He turned on the radio. Adele came on, singing her heart out about love and loss. He flipped the channel. “Nope.”
“Not a fan?”
“Definitely a fan. Just too sad for today. We need something with some energy.” Lizzo came on with “Truth Hurts.” “Oh, yeah.” He turned it up, grinned at her. “Now we’re talking.”
It was a four-hour drive to Charlotte. After a while they moved from the radio to music apps and playlists and mostly they just listened and talked music. When they were about two hours into the drive Sean changed the subject.
“Rob told me about your murder rule case.”
“Did he?”
“It sounds like it has a lot of potential.”
“Yes. I think so.” Guilt ate at Hannah. Had she thought about Nia Jones once in the last couple of days? Nia Jones, who’d spent twenty-four years in prison and was facing eleven more? That wasn’t good enough. She would have to do something to move the case forward while she was stil in a position to do so.
“I’ve never liked the murder rule,” Sean said. “This idea that people should be ful y legal y responsible for acts they didn’t commit, or didn’t intend to commit. It undermines our whole concept of justice.”
“Hmmm.”
He glanced at her. “You don’t agree?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s a good idea to make people take responsibility for the consequences of their actions, even if those consequences are unintended, within reason. It’s al a question of foreseeability. If you could reasonably foresee that a death might result from your actions, or in, you know, the overal action you’re taking part in, like an armed robbery, for example, then you should pay the price.”
Sean grimaced. “When you put it like that it sounds okay. But the reality of the case law is that a lot of the time, felony murder is just another stick used to beat poor people. The kind of people who commit stupid crimes or get caught up in something bigger than themselves because they’re out of options.”
Hannah made a sound that could be taken for agreement. She didn’t agree with him and the part of her that wasn’t on a mission wanted to keep the conversation going. She had questions she wanted to ask him too—about why he had volunteered for the Project, what he real y thought about Robert Parekh, and why he was so convinced of Dandridge’s innocence—but questions from her would likely prompt questions in return and it would be much safer if she kept things light and simple. She al owed the conversation to peter out and used the quiet moments to think about the upcoming interview. It was incredible how convinced Camila had been that Neil Prosper would be useful, rather than detrimental to their cause.