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“A mom who’s alive, when you thought she wasn’t,” Cass said softly.
I backed off, taking a deep breath. I’d seen Cass’s parents in a newspaper photo that Cass had kept in his backpack. The headline read “Mattipack Crime-Spree Couple Caught!” The mug shots showed two scowling people with bloated, angry faces.
“How do you have faith?” I asked. “Have you … have you ever tried to get in touch with your mom and dad?”
Cass nodded. “I called the prison a couple of years ago. It was weird. Mom couldn’t believe it was me. I talked a lot, but she didn’t say much. Just listened. When our time was up, I could hear that she was crying. She said ‘Love you, Cassius’—and then, click.”
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