Liam watched the cops drive away with his son. Tears streamed down his cheeks with the thought of all the terrible things his firstborn had done.
“Come along, Liam,” his wife prodded, grabbing his arm to lead him inside, out of view of all the neighbors who stood gawking at their pain.
After they were safely inside, Liam settled heavily into his armchair in the livingroom, lost in memories of his son’s childhood.
His wife fussed and flittered around the kitchen, dusted the livingroom and watched her favorite show on television. By ten o’clock, she’d had enough.
“Stop your moping, Liam,” she ordered. “We are not responsible for the bad choices that boy made!”
Liam knew his wife believed what she said, but she didn’t know what he knew. He assured her he would be fine, but all the while, he was hearing the words Father Sebastian had whispered when he went to him for confession last week.
“The sins of the father…”