Andy hung up the phone and said, "I need Treasure to be ok. I need my mom to be ok."
When he was 23, Andy's mother committed suicide. She'd survived an abusive, alcoholic husband. She's survived a suicide cult. But she couldn't survive Treasure.
The next morning Andy's phone rang. It was that same police officer. Andy couldn't believe the words he was hearing.
In silent cooperation, Andy and his father collected his mother's belongings from the hotel and drove the car back to his father's house. In the only time in their lives, they would work together, making arrangements for his mother. It was as traditional as their budget allowed. Andy still wasn't going to let his father know he had money. He contributed three thousand, about half, and said it was leftover scholarship money. His father was too dazed and too ignorant to know better.
Andy was leaving town straight from the cemetery but made one more stop on his way back home. He bought a small arrangement of flowers and balloons in the hospital lobby and took them up to Treasure's room. She was doing well. Sitting in that hospital bed, one would never know she'd emerged from a coma just three days prior. Andy avoided introducing himself and said he had heard about Treasure on the news. She was charming and gracious to a stranger. Andy saw Treasure's mother wipe a tear of joy off her cheek.