Shelby sits on the edge of the bed, floored by this news. “Jesus, Mimi.”

“That damn Marcus was involved. Teddy swears he was just along for the ride and had nothing to do with the home invasion. He wasn’t identified in the lineup by the victim’s wife. But he was in the car when the police pulled them over.”

“I’m sure he had nothing to do with it,” Shelby is quick to say.

“Don’t defend him! That’s what I’ve been doing and look where it got us! The robbery happened because they’re all on drugs, Teddy included. I don’t want him getting out unless he’s going to rehab. He’d just go back to the same crowd.” Shelby can hear that Maravelle is crying.

“It will get better,” Shelby tells her. “Look at me. I was in a mental hospital drugged out of my mind. I sat in the basement for two years and did absolutely nothing but get high.”

“Tell me he’ll be fine, like you are.”

“He will be.”

That’s what Shelby says, but you can never be too sure. All week she researches possible placements to present to the court. She finds a therapeutic high school near Albany with a great reputation for turning kids around. Teddy’s attorney likes the looks of it, but the assignment has to be approved by the judge at Teddy’s hearing. That means the judge has to see something in Teddy, a soul worth saving; otherwise Teddy will stay in the detention center where he’s currently being held. There’s a three-week wait for a court date due to a jammed docket, so Teddy stays where he is, with every other underage offender in Nassau County. Nothing good can come of this. It’s a step deeper into a criminal life. He tells his mother not to come visit him. He doesn’t want anyone to see him caged up and humiliated.

On the day of the hearing Shelby waits in the hallway of the courthouse in Mineola with Jasmine and Dorian. Teddy’s attorney says it’s best to have only Maravelle and Mrs. Diaz sit in at the hearing. All the same, Shelby and Jasmine and Dorian are dressed for a serious occasion, wearing clothes they wouldn’t be caught dead in anywhere else. Shelby has on a black skirt and a white buttoned-up shirt she found at a thrift store on Twenty-Third Street. Jasmine’s borrowed one of her mom’s sweater sets, a pale, dignified gray, and a pleated navy-blue skirt. With her hair in braids, she looks like the serious schoolgirl she’s become. Dorian, the most somber among them, is wearing a suit and tie. Dorian looks so concerned that every time Shelby glances at him her heart breaks. She’s brought along the brochure for the school Teddy will be attending if the judge okays it so Dorian can see that it looks more like a college than a jail. A plain community college with brick dormitories, nothing fancy, but nothing horrendous. It’s not what anyone would have wished for Teddy, but it’s the road he’s taken, and it’s the road back.

“I was much worse than he is,” Shelby tells Jasmine and herself as they sit on the bench. A woman turns to glare at her. Everything you say in the courthouse echoes, even a whisper. “Well I was!” Shelby says.

“Plus you were bald,” Jasmine says.

They both laugh, but it’s nervous laughter. It could break in a moment. Dorian pays no attention. He stares down the hall, focused on his brother’s fate. Behind the closed doors of the courtroom, Maravelle and Mrs. Diaz sit in the row behind Teddy and his lawyer. They too are wearing black, as though attending a funeral. In a sense they are. Teddy was always the star, the boy who could have done anything, more confident than his twin, a success at everything he tried. It was always going to be Teddy who was going to attend an Ivy League college and win every award. Maybe things came easily for him, but at some point he just quit. Dorian has admitted he’s been doing homework for the both of them for the last couple of months.

But Teddy’s fate is unknown, and no one can foretell the future. Shelby has borrowed another thousand dollars from her mom to help pay for the lawyer, Isaac Worth, who looks a little like Teddy, only grown up and set right. If the attorney manages to cut a deal, Teddy will be taken directly to the school upstate, where he will remain a student until graduation or upon the occasion of his eighteenth birthday, whichever comes first. It’s the best they can hope for—no jail time, no record, and a chance to get him away from the crowd he’s mixed up with. When the judge agrees to the placement, they can hear Mrs. Diaz offering thanks to God all the way down the hall.

The court allows Teddy to say good-bye to his family, but he’s accompanied by a guard and his lawyer is present. The meeting takes place right there in the hallway. No privacy and not much time. Shelby hardly recognizes Teddy as he approaches. A month in detention and he seems like a stranger: his slouched posture, the regulation T-shirt and khakis, and, more disturbing, the fact that his head has been shaved. Shelby can tell Jasmine is equally shocked to see Teddy is nearly bald. It’s a way to make him look like everyone else, to take away his pride. He’s always cared deeply about his appearance, making sure his hair was perfect before he went out. Still, when he raises his eyes and smiles, it’s the same Teddy, the one all the girls fell for because he knew exactly how handsome he was.

“I look like shit,” he says. “Right?”

Dorian goes to his brother and throws his arms around him. ­Everything seems fine, until Dorian starts to sob. The sound echoes like a shot. People turn to stare. The guard studies the floor.

“Hey,” Teddy says with a nervous laugh, shoving his brother away. “What’s wrong with you? I just look like crap. It’s not the end of the world.”

Dorian backs off, wiping at his eyes. “This is bad,” he says. “This wasn’t supposed to happen to you.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Teddy says. “You can take my place.” He laughs. “No one would ever know.”

Dorian stares at his brother. “Is that what you want me to do?” Would he or wouldn’t he? Shelby thinks he would. He would walk into the line of fire, take his brother’s place, ruin his own future. That is why she loves him, of course. He’s loyal beyond measure.

“Of course not, stupid. I’m playing with you. I got myself into this. And if one of us would make it through this shithole they’re going to send me to, it would be me.”

Isaac Worth is discussing the court’s terms with Maravelle. “After six weeks you can visit. Other family members can go up later if he’s fitting in. It is not a lockdown. It’s a boarding school. It was a military-style school, but now they focus on academics and behavior. I managed to get some scholarship money, and New York State will pay for the rest.”