Chapter 10

The hospital in Newport kept us for three days. Earlene slept in a plastic bassinet beside my bed. I slept in pieces. Every time a door opened, I woke up expecting Boone.

He was in jail. No bail. The state police charged him with vehicular homicide, reckless endangerment, tampering with evidence, and attempted kidnapping. The company that had paid the hush money tried to issue a statement. It didn't help them. Marnie Ellers was fired and charged with falsifying records and obstruction. She pled guilty. She would serve eighteen months. She sent me a letter. I didn't read it.

Cody went to live with his aunt in St. Johnsbury. He called me once. He said he was sorry. I told him he could call again. He didn't, but I left the door open.

The camp was impounded. The trailer was condemned. The plow was seized, then returned to the company, then sold at auction. I sold my wedding ring and used the money to buy a used car. I sold the bulldozer for scrap. I used the money to rent a motel room in Granite Notch for two months.

In April, I testified before the grand jury. I brought the invoice. The state police brought the mirror. Marnie's logger recording played in the courtroom. I watched the jurors' faces as Boone's voice said, "I cut the line." I watched them hear Marnie's voice say, "Take Notch." I watched them learn that the company had paid Earlene Duquette's family fifty thousand dollars to call it an accident.

Boone was convicted. He got twelve years. The company settled with the families of the seven children. It wasn't enough. It never is.

I moved to Montpelier. I got a job dispatching for a trucking company. I kept the handheld radio in a drawer. I didn't turn it on for a year. Then one night, Earlene was teething, and I couldn't sleep, and I took it out. I turned the dial. I heard static. I heard a voice. It was just a trucker, asking for a weather report.

I answered him. Then I turned it off.

I still dream about the plow cab. I still feel Boone's glove on my wrist. But when I wake up, I hear Earlene breathing in the next room. I hear the radio silence. I hear the truth, still out there, still loud enough.

Boone tried to bury it. Marnie tried to hide it. I was nine months pregnant, barefoot, and alone. But I had one live channel. I kept my thumb on the button.

And the snowplow radio heard my husband confess.