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parents had all gone to high school together and the boys had known each other from that September when they had been born just a few weeks apart. “Who wants to go to college anyway?” Justin scoffed. “I’m going to be a race car driver. You don’t need a diploma for that.” “No,” Tom countered, “but you do need a driver’s license.” “And now, thanks to you,” Sam added, “none of us has that.” “Sure, blame me,” Justin quipped. “What I blame you for,” Tom said, “is mouthing off in the courtroom. You don’t have to put up with a zillion little brothers and sisters, but I do. Now I’ve got to work with more small children. It makes me downright nauseated.” “Someone needed to stand up for our rights,” Justin countered. Sam took a deep breath. “You two do what you want, but I’m going in.” With that he turned and headed into the hospital, basketball in hand. “I’m coming too,” Tom said, following him. “Well, if you two wimps are going to give in, I suppose I might as well go with you,” Justin said miserably. The Women’s Crisis Center was an L-shaped 9