“She makes some calls in the morning, and right after breakfast, she and I head into Madras. The Jefferson County sheriff's office is right in the middle of town. Mom parks the car between two green and white cruisers. I find a seat in the lobby while Mom talks to the officer behind the counter. I sit on the backs of my hands, keeping my legs off the sweaty plastic. Mom comes back and sits down with me. "It will be a couple of minutes," she says. "They're waiting for the tribal police." My stoma...ch pulls tighter. "How many people do I have to talk to?" I can tell she's trying to look reassuring, but it doesn't help. "Raymond's a tribal member and a juvenile. The Warm Springs police need to be involved." It's not going to make any difference. Jewel said there's nothing they can do. I distract myself by looking around at the knots of people in the quiet room. Some of them also have big troubles or they wouldn't be here. Káthla and Jewel come through the glass doors. Jewel helps her grandmother ease into a chair and then sets a paper sack down next to her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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