"I dunno," said Richie. He blinked his eyes, deeper blue than Margery's, and reached up one hand to push away the mass of blond hair tumbling over his forehead. He was obviously trying hard to pretend he wasn't in the room at all.
onathan said, "Now, son, that is not a good answer. What were you doing when the ball went through the window?"
"Watching," said Richie truthfully.
"How did it go through the window?"
"Real fast."
Jonathan found his teeth were clamped. No wonder he couldn't decode Easton's speech—he couldn't even talk with his own son!
"I mean," he explained, his patience wavering, "you threw the ball so that it broke the window, didn't you?"
"I didn't mean it to," said Richie.