All through the rest of the night, Jenny continued to check on Fin. His bleeding has almost stopped. She tried to get Jeremy to release his hold on the knife, but now, even hours after both Shay brothers had been hurt, he held it tight.

Jenny knew her brother was in shock. He sat on the couch, staring at Patrick's still form.

"Jeremy, I may have to leave you to get help. I'll wait until it starts getting light," she said.

Jeremy didn't bother to acknowledge her.

Patrick hadn't moved, but the bloody spot on the rug continued to grow. If he was still bleeding, Jenny knew he was still alive. Her stomach turned at the thought.

Once again, she knelt beside Fin. His breathing was shallow, but he was still alive. There was some part of her that wanted to help Fin. He was salvageable. He was nothing like his brother. He still had a soul.

Jenny lifted his head and put it in her lap. Her eyes went to Jeremy, rocking ever so slightly, eyes still on Patrick.

Three boys, all so different. Only one she wanted to die.



The knock on the door sounded out and made Jenny jump. It was barely light outside. She'd heard no cars or trucks since she'd been sitting there.

"Anybody here?" a loud voice called from outside. "We saw your 9 1 1 message."

She eased Fin's head off of her legs and moved to her feet. Stiff legged she went to the door and peered through the window.

Two sheriffs deputies stood on the snow covered porch. One was talking on a walkie-talkie and the other was looking around. Jenny didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

They had seen the message. It hadn't been in vain, after all. She had outsmarted Patrick.

She opened the door and stared at them, unable to say anything.

"Miss, are you alright?" the younger deputy asked. He frowned when she didn't answer. Standing on his toes he surveyed what little he could see in the living room. "Can we come inside?"

She stepped back, letting them both inside.

"Good Lord, what the hell happened here?" The deputy said. He looked from Jenny to the three others. "Miss, tell me what happened here."

Jenny bit her lip, then pointed at Patrick. "I think I might have killed him."

The deputy looked at his partner, then motioned to Jeremy.

"Son, let go of that knife."

Jeremy looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. "He- he tried to hurt Jenny. He was gonna hurt her," he mumbled.

Both deputies exchanged looks. They radioed for medical personnel.

Jenny told them what had happened over the course of the last thirty-six hours, recounting the horrors and the humiliating details.

The younger deputy shook his head as he wrote. "Those Shay's are bad news. You're lucky to be alive. Patrick has a record a mile long. But the other one, Fin, he's the dangerous one. Killed a guy a couple of days ago. Yeah, you and your brother are very lucky."

As she sat there reciting the details, she started to cry. Silly to cry now. It was over. She glanced once more at Patrick. The sunlight glowed around him, like a halo. He appeared so young. He didn't look anything like the devil now.

An hour later, a medical helicopter took both Shay's and Jeremy to the hospital in Norfolk, Virginia, leaving Jenny with the deputies.

"You're a brave girl, you know that?" he said. "Did he hurt you?"

The deputy tried to ask the question gently, but got his answer when she shuddered.

"Is there anyone we can call?"

"My dad," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face. The mirror that held her reflection was spotted and old. A different girl looked back at her now. The old Jenny thought everyone could be saved. This one knew differently. This new girl frightened her.

She closed her eyes and tried to find God in her heart. Pray for Fin, pray for Jeremy, pray for herself. She thought about Patrick. Pray for Patrick, she thought. Maybe pray for Patrick most of all.

The deputy knocked on the bathroom door. "Your father's on his way home. He should get here tomorrow morning. Jenny, we need to get you to a hospital. You need to be checked out. Come downstairs when you're ready."

She waited until she heard him go back downstairs before she came out. She went into her bedroom and rummaged through her bag. The prayer she had written for Christmas was balled up and stuffed in one of the pockets. She read it over, reciting each line until she got to the end. Penciled on the bottom was one line.

Pray for those who frighten you, the ones who have been discarded.

Jenny bowed her head and prayed.

The End