“You found him at the bottom of the stairs,” Tyler corrected her sharply. “That’s not the same as witnessing it. For all we know, he threw himself down on purpose.”

The crowd murmured in agreement, in consideration. “That makes sense, doesn’t it?” my cousin Jake, twenty-three and still living with his parents, stepped forward. “Dude, I saw him walking at the Jewel-Osco on Roosevelt Road last month. He was in the cereal aisle.”

The murmuring got louder as heads nodded. Of course. I knew it. Always suspected.

“That was physical therapy,” I managed from the ground, my voice coming out smaller and weaker than I wanted. “I told everyone about the outpatient program at Rush.”