A phone was shoved into my hand.
"Tell her to stop making trouble."
I looked out at the water. The sun was sinking toward the horizon.
"She'll listen to me," I said.
The man stared at me.
"Then call."
I dialed Mom's number.
It rang for a long time before she picked up.
"Lori?"
"Mom." My voice was steady. "I'm at the river."
Silence on the other end. A few seconds.
"How many?"
"Two."
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
Mom exhaled softly.
"Hand them the phone."
The man took it. He listened for a moment, and the color drained from his face.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He listened a few seconds longer.
Then he swore under his breath.
He tossed the phone back to me.
"Your mother's out of her mind."
They got in the car and drove off.
I stood on the embankment. Mom's voice came through the speaker:
"Stay right there. Don't move. I'm coming."
By the time she arrived, the sky had gone completely dark.
She was riding a beat-up electric scooter. The headlight barely cut through the night.
She ran to me and held me so tight I could feel her heartbeat.
"Were you scared?"
"No."
She smiled and pressed her forehead gently against mine.
The scooter hummed along slowly. River wind cool against our skin.
"What did they say?"