“That recess was the longest forty-five minutes of my life,” Denny said. I waited for his answer. “She recanted,” he said. “They dropped the charges.” He fought it, I know, but it was hard for him to breathe. “They dropped the charges, and I’m free.” Denny might have been able to hold it off if we had been alone, but Mike wrapped him in a hug, and Denny unleashed the years of tears that had been dammed behind mud and determination and the ability to always find another finger to stick in the leaking dike. He cried so hard.
