Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

of yours. That’s what you think you are, an army of the righteous. You gather up the wounded and turn them into warriors.”
    “We nurture them. Give them a way to spring back from adversity.”
    “No, you keep them in a place where they’ll never be allowed to forget. By surrounding them with other victims, you take away any chance of them seeing the world the way other children do. Instead of light, they see darkness. They see evil.”
    “Because it’s there. Evil,” Pasquantonio whispered. He sat hunched in his chair, his head still bowed. “The proof of it comes from their own lives. They merely see what they already know exists.” Slowly he lifted his head and looked at her with pale and watery eyes. “As do you.”
    “No,” she said. “What I see in my work is the result of violence. This thing you call
evil
is merely a philosophical term.”
    “Call it what you will. These children know the truth. It’s burned into their memories.”
    Gottfried said, reasonably, “We provide them with the knowledge and skills to make a difference in the world. We inspire them to take action, just as other private schools do. Military academies teach discipline. Religious schools teach piety. College preps emphasize academics.”
    “And Evensong?”
    “We teach resilience, Dr. Isles,” Gottfried answered.
    Maura regarded the faces around the table, evangelists all. And their recruits were the wounded and vulnerable, children who had not been given a choice.
    She rose to her feet. “Julian doesn’t belong here. I’ll find another school for him.”
    “I’m afraid that’s not your decision,” said Dr. Welliver. “You don’t have legal custody of the boy.”
    “I’ll petition the state of Wyoming.”
    “I understand you had the chance to do that six months ago. You declined.”
    “Because I thought this school was the right place for him.”
    “It
is
the right place for him, Maura,” said Sansone. “To pull him from Evensong would be a mistake. One that you’ll regret.” Was that a warning in his voice? She tried to read his face, but like so many times before, she failed.
    “This is up to Julian, don’t you think?” Dr. Welliver said.
    “Yes, of course it is,” said Maura. “But I’m going to tell him exactly how I feel about this.”
    “Then I suggest you take the time to understand what we’re doing here.”
    “I
do
understand.”
    “You just got here yesterday, Dr. Isles,” Lily said. “You haven’t seen what we offer the children. You haven’t walked in our forest, seen our stables and farm, observed all the skills they’re picking up here. Everything from archery to growing their own food to learninghow to survive in the wilderness. I know you’re a scientist. Shouldn’t you base your decisions on facts and not emotions?”
    This made Maura pause, because what Lily said was true. She had not yet explored Evensong. She had no idea if there was a better alternative for Julian.
    “Give us a chance,” said Lily. “Take the time to meet our students, and you’ll see why Evensong is the one place that can help them. As an example, we’ve just taken in two new kids. Both of them have survived two separate massacres. First their parents were killed, then their
foster
parents. Imagine how deep
their
wounds must go, to be twice orphaned, twice a survivor?” Lily shook her head. “I don’t know of another school that would understand their pain the way we can.”
    Twice orphaned. Twice a survivor
. “These children,” Maura said softly. “Which ones are they?”
    “The names don’t matter,” said Dr. Welliver. “What matters is that they
need
Evensong.”
    “I want to know who they
are
.” Maura’s sharp demand seemed to startle them all.
    A silence passed before Lily asked: “Why do their names make a difference?”
    “You said there were two of them.”
    “A boy and a girl.”
    “Are their cases related?”
    “No. Will came to us from New Hampshire. Claire came from Ithaca, New York. Why do you ask?”
    “Because I just performed autopsies on a family in Boston, killed in a home invasion. There was one survivor in the house, their foster child. A boy of fourteen. A boy who was orphaned two years ago when his family was massacred.” She looked around the table at the stunned faces. “He’s just like your two students. Twice orphaned. Twice a survivor.”

TEN
 
    I T WAS A STRANGE PLACE TO MEET .
    Jane stood on the sidewalk, eyeing the blacked-out