Chap­ter XXXII begins with a sense of dis­ar­ray as the after­math of the sit­u­a­tion involv­ing Carlene’s trail­er unfolds. The scene is swarm­ing with police offi­cers, state troop­ers, and para­medics, each mov­ing swift­ly to address the chaos. The rain had final­ly stopped, leav­ing behind an audi­ence of curi­ous neigh­bors who stood out­side, eager to wit­ness the dra­ma that had just occurred. Inside the trail­er, Lester, Lill, and Car­lene were being ques­tioned by the author­i­ties, while the chil­dren gath­ered near­by, watch­ing over each oth­er pro­tec­tive­ly. Bob­bi, Will, and Fish sat on Car­lene’s sofa, with Bob­bi try­ing to appear unin­ter­est­ed while Will focused intent­ly on the offi­cers, study­ing their every move. Fish, still affect­ed by the ear­li­er tur­moil, seemed to have found some com­fort after locat­ing Sam­son, his dis­tress fad­ing with each pass­ing moment.

On the floor, Sam­son and I shared a qui­et moment of con­nec­tion. His ink-stained hand grasped mine, the sen­sa­tion of his touch offer­ing a sense of calm amid the sur­round­ing chaos. The para­medics moved through the room, hand­ing out blan­kets and check­ing on the chil­dren to ensure their well-being. Despite the pres­ence of so many adults around us, I felt an over­whelm­ing urge to explain every­thing to the offi­cers and case­work­er, espe­cial­ly the rea­son behind our jour­ney to see Pop­pa. I feared that the time we had tak­en to get here was being wast­ed and that we would soon face con­se­quences for our actions. Even as I insist­ed that it had been my idea to lead the group, the adults mere­ly nod­ded polite­ly, their expres­sions betray­ing lit­tle con­vic­tion in my words. It became clear that my attempts to ease the sit­u­a­tion were not mak­ing the impact I had hoped for.

A sense of dread set­tled in my stom­ach as I began to wor­ry about the con­se­quences for Lester and Lill, guilt gnaw­ing at me over the lies that had led us to this point. My anx­i­ety was com­pound­ed by my con­cern for Car­lene, though I con­sid­ered her more of an unfor­tu­nate part of our tan­gled sit­u­a­tion rather than a cen­tral fig­ure in my wor­ries. As I anx­ious­ly inquired about Poppa’s con­di­tion, I received only rehearsed respons­es from the case­work­er, which did lit­tle to alle­vi­ate my grow­ing sense of unease about our future. The uncer­tain­ty of our cir­cum­stances seemed to be clos­ing in on me, mak­ing me feel even more help­less in a sit­u­a­tion that had spi­raled beyond my con­trol.

The arrival of Kansas state troop­ers added a new lay­er of ten­sion, and the loom­ing pos­si­bil­i­ty of being tak­en back to Hebron filled me with dread. Despite the over­whelm­ing odds, a sense of resolve began to build inside me, a qui­et deter­mi­na­tion not to lose the progress we had made in our quest to see Pop­pa. Just as the sit­u­a­tion seemed to reach its peak, a famil­iar fig­ure emerged from among the troopers—Bill, Will and Bobbi’s old­er broth­er. His pres­ence was like a breath of fresh air, bring­ing a wave of relief that swept over me, espe­cial­ly as he embraced his younger sib­lings. Watch­ing this reunion unfold shed new light on Will’s life, reveal­ing a side of his fam­i­ly dynam­ic that I hadn’t ful­ly under­stood before. This unex­pect­ed rev­e­la­tion reshaped my per­cep­tion of their rela­tion­ship, adding depth to my under­stand­ing of their sit­u­a­tion and their moti­va­tions.

Seiz­ing the oppor­tu­ni­ty, I approached Offi­cer Meeks, hop­ing to con­vey my per­spec­tive on every­thing that had tran­spired. With a rush of emo­tion, I implored him to under­stand that I was the one respon­si­ble for our actions, pour­ing out my heart and express­ing my deep desire to see Pop­pa. Over­come by the weight of every­thing that had hap­pened, tears welled up in my eyes as I spoke, my emo­tions final­ly break­ing free in a moment of vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty. This raw out­pour­ing was my attempt to make sense of the chaos, to offer a glimpse into my feel­ings and the immense pres­sure I had been car­ry­ing. It was a des­per­ate plea for under­stand­ing, for a chance to be heard in a moment when every­thing seemed to be spi­ral­ing out of con­trol.