Free The Theory of Death by Faye Kellerman

you?”
    “Five.” A pause. “We had five children. Elijah was number two.”
    “I heard he was a brilliant boy.”
    “He was always bright.”
    Rina nodded and began dicing a tomato.
    “Bright … but not brilliant, at least not right away.” Ruth Anne looked up at the ceiling. “Elijah changed when he was fourteen. He was riding in the backseat of a car, along with his older brother and a friend who was driving.” A long pause. “It was a terrible accident. The driver was killed and my eldest son, Jacob, broke his left leg. But he was otherwise okay, praise God. Elijah was wearing a seat belt but there was impact. He was in a coma for two weeks. We almost lost him. It was touch and go.”
    She recited the story with a flat voice. Rina said, “That must have been so earth-shattering.”
    “At the time, I thought it was the worst thing that could happen to a parent. Now I see I was wrong.” Ruth Anne put the chops in an oiled pan.
    From the aroma, Rina knew it was pork. She kept chopping vegetables, but stopped drinking the tea. Even though it was silly, it was hard to be around the smell.
    “Elijah changed after that,” Ruth Anne continued. “Before the accident, he was friendly, popular, and outgoing. Afterward, he became withdrawn and quiet. Very uncommunicative. He buried himself in a world of numbers.”
    She flipped the meat over. Grease splattered on the stove top.
    “My husband is a very laconic man. He always thought that Elijah was a frivolous boy. He and Elijah used to butt heads all the time. After the accident, my husband was pleased with the change in his attitude. He thought the accident had shook some sense into the boy, showed him that the world wasn’t a silly place. He was pleased that Elijah had become so serious.” She shook her head. “But I knew something was wrong. Elijah wouldn’t talk to me except to say he was fine and his perspective had changed.” A pause. “He stopped going out. He stopped seeing his friends. He stopped doing anything social.”
    She threw up her hands. Then she placed the pork chops on a paper towel to drain the grease and turned off the fire.
    “When it came time for college, Ezra wanted him to stay close to home and go to community college which is just ten minutes from here. That way, he could still help with the farm. That’s what his brother did. I wanted him near to keep an eye out. But it seems that Elijah had entered some kind of state math contest. It caught both of us by surprise that he even knew about such things, let alone took the initiative and entered it without our knowing about it.”
    She divided the chops onto two plates.
    “He came in first place.”
    “That must have made you so proud.”
    “It did. But it was a mixed bag. We … ‘we’ meaning Mennonites … we keep a low profile. After the contest, the letters began to arrive … full scholarships from Harvard and Princeton and MIT and so many others. People found out. People began to talk.”
    “It’s hard when you’re a private family and you’re suddenly thrust into the spotlight, even a good spotlight.”
    She nodded. “I had reservations about sending him away. I didn’t want him holed up in some small dorm room working with formulas during all his waking hours.” Her eyes moistened. “I wanted him to have a meaningful life with a wife and children and his own land.”
    “I understand,” Rina said.
    Ruth Anne regarded her with fierce eyes. “Do you?”
    “In traditional communities, family is everything.”
    “Yes, it is. Not that it matters now.” She stared up at the ceiling. “I really lost Elijah six years ago. It would be one thing if he had been happy with his new life. But he seemed so … I don’t know how to describe it. He became so withdrawn and secretive. Almost paranoid, but I found out that sometimes people can be that way after brain injuries.”
    Rina nodded.
    “His only focus was on his math. His world became very small. He had wanted to