I’m just about to eat dinner when there’s a knock at my door.

It makes me jump. I’m not expecting anyone, and fear spikes through me. Normally I wouldn’t react like this, but now I’m on edge. I know people are watching me, calling my cell phone, coming around my house, going through my trash. They want to hurt me, get me to back off. And I don’t know if they’re above coming into my home like this and making me bleed.

I pick up my phone and have Wyatt’s number ready to dial. I walk over to the front window and peek out, trying to see who’s parked out front… and instantly I relax.

I go over to the door and pull it open. My mom glowers at me as she steps inside, not waiting to be invited.

“What took you so long?” she grumbles at me. “You got any wine?”

I smile to myself. “There’s an open bottle—” I start, but she’s already heading over to it. She pours herself a nice, healthy glass, and turns to me.

“What’s up?” I ask her.

She stares at me and drinks down half the wine. “Guess what happened to me today.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Marcie said something again about your back yard?”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Fuck Marcie. And fuck my back yard. Honey, what are you involved with?”

I stare at her, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“I got a phone call,” she says, “from a very unhappy man that claims you’re poking around where you shouldn’t. What are you doing, Cora?”

“Who was it?” I press her.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Didn’t sound happy, though.”

“Did he threaten you?”

She hesitates then nods. “What are you doing, Cora?”

I sigh and sit down at my table. Mom joins me, glass clutched in her hand. “We’re investigating,” I say.

“Atticus?”

I nod. “Wyatt and I.”

She groans. “Now I understand.”

“They want us to stop because they’re hiding something. You know that, right?”

“Of course they are,” she snaps. “But these people are killers, honey.”

“Exactly,” I say. “That’s why we have to catch them.”

“We don’t have to do anything. That’s what the police are for.”

I roll my eyes. “They’re not going to do anything and you know it.”

She chews her lip. This is new, this whole police thing. Before she was complaining that they don’t care about her dead son, and now she wants them to take over. Suddenly she trusts the police.

Well, I don’t trust them, not at all.

“What did they say to you?” I ask her softly.

She sips her wine and looks away. “It’s not important.”

“Mom,” I say.

“They said I’d end up like Atticus, but they’d rape me first.”

I stare at her, surprised. “Jesus.”

“They said if you don’t stop what you’re doing, I’m going to be next.” She sighs. “Oh, honey. Why did you have to do this?”

I grimace a little bit. She’s clearly afraid, but I didn’t think she’d be this afraid. I thought she wanted to solve Atticus’s killing, and that she’d be willing to do anything to get it done.

“Someone had to,” I say, standing up. I walk over and pour myself some wine.

“But why you?” She turns toward me. “We can just let the police do their job.”

“They’re not doing their job,” I snap at her. “You know that.”

She looks surprised. “I know what I said before. But I never thought…”

“Never thought I’d actually do something?”

“Yes,” she admits. “You and that boy.”

“Me and Wyatt. Mom, you knew we were doing this, or are you too drunk to remember?”

I see the anger flare up, like it does every time I call her out for drinking too much. “Don’t talk to your mother that way.”

“Don’t make me have to.”

She glares at me in silence for a minute. I sip my wine, equally angry.

But all at once, my anger goes away. I realize that she’s not a scared woman, in over her head. She’s the same as me, except I’m going forward, and she’s ready to give up. But she’s been through so much, and she didn’t ask for any of this.

“Look mom,” I say, sitting back down. “Why don’t you stay with me? At least until this is all over?”

She shakes her head. “No, thank you. I don’t want to be a burden.” Her words are meant to hurt me, but I don’t let them dig down deep.

“Come on. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” She finishes her glass of wine in record time. “I just want you to know what you’re doing.”

“I know,” I say softly.

“There are consequences. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” I can hear her unspoken words: and I don’t want to end up dead.

“I won’t,” I say to her.

“You always were stubborn,” she says softly, standing.

“Mom, please don’t go. At least stay tonight.”

She shakes her head. “No. I’m going home.”

“If anything happens, call me,” I say to her. “Seriously.”

“I’ll be calling the police, thank you very much.” She walks to my door. “Just… be careful.”

“I will.”

I watch as she leaves. I head to my front window and catch a glimpse of her lighting a cigarette in her car. She drives off and I’m left standing there, feeling shell-shocked and angry.

The bastards are going after my mother. That’s a step too far. They can threaten me, come after me, but my family’s off limits. That’s the kind of people I’m dealing with here. They’re monsters and they have no limits, none at all. They’ll go to any lengths to stop this investigation, because they know I’m going to discover their secrets.

I sigh and shake my head. What the hell am I thinking? I’m not the one doing anything, it’s all Wyatt. I’m just tagging along, trying not to get in the way, and trying not to get hurt. My poor mother didn’t ask for any of this. She never wanted to get involved, that was my choice.

Without thinking, I grab my things and head outside. I get into my car and start driving, not really sure where I’m going, except I end up exactly where I knew I’d end up.

It’s getting late. It’s almost nine, and I know I should go home. I should just turn around and pretend like this never happened, or maybe go to my mother’s house and make sure she’s not drinking herself to death.

Instead, I get out of the car and head up toward his room.