Vincent trying to break up with me was just weird.

For a second, I seriously thought he meant it, and my heart had never hurt so badly in my life. I was all set on telling him my news about the club and Max and that woman I’m trying to remember.

But then he totally distracted me by lying.

And then he came back and told the truth.

I feel kind of wrung out. This weird blend of elation and confusion.

He must have tried to dump me for a really good reason and I’m desperate to find out what it is, but with Max going through her crisis and my parents on full alert right now, it’s kind of hard to move.

Vincent and I need some decent time together so we can talk this all through. I have to know what went down at his place last week. I need to figure out why he was trying to distance himself.

His family must have said something to him to make him scared. Shit, I have to get him out of that place.

Drying my hands on the dishtowel, I leave Mads to finish up the dishes and walk to my room. I need to get my homework done, although it’s going to be freaking impossible to think about Biology when all I want to do is figure out Vincent and how to set him free.

I want to be with him.

I want to rescue him.

I want Dad to see him for who he really is.

Opening my laptop, I start searching Nick’s case again. I have a bunch of searches in my Google history and go through some of those, rereading the articles and trying to find nuggets of truth within the lies.

“Hey, Chloe.”

I jump a mile when Dad greets me. Slapping my laptop closed, I give myself away without thinking. Dad’s eyebrows dip together as he moves from my doorway and further into my room.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” I blink, then cringe.

I am so not getting away with this lie right now.

And with everything Max has been doing, Dad’s not letting a single thing slide.

Stopping by the edge of my bed, he points to my laptop. “Open it.”

“Dad…”

“Open it!”

With a soft huff, I do as I’m told and spin the computer so he can look at my screen.

He perches on the edge of my bed and quickly scans the front article before shooting me a dry glare. “You still on this?”

“I’m sorry.” I shrug. “But I just can’t seem to let it go. Nick Mancini is innocent, I’m sure of it.”

“Chloe.” Dad kind of groans my name while rubbing his forehead the way Max does when she’s stressed. “Why won’t you just believe me when I tell you the Mancinis are bad?”

“And why won’t you believe me when I tell you they’re not all bad?”

“Just because Vincent saved you that night doesn’t make his brother innocent! I can show you the case file. The evidence is substantial and pretty damning.”

“I think the case files have been fudged. I think it’s one big cover-up. Just like the way Luke set up Vincent.”

Dad huffs and lets out a hard snicker. “Luke tried to set Vincent up for stealing. It’s hardly murder.”

“It’s still a crime. It’s still injustice!”

Dad looks tired as he sags forward, resting his elbows on his knees and shaking his head. “We don’t always get justice, Chloe. And I told you, I can’t reopen a case unless I have a decent reason to.”

“And that’s what I’m trying to find for you.”

He snaps up straight and turns to me. “You stay away from this. You’re not a cop, and I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

“If you think I’m wrong, then there won’t be any trouble,” I retort.

His eyes narrow to a glare that’s strong enough to make me apologize.

“I’m sorry, okay? Something just feels off and I can’t turn my back on it.”

“Please try.” Dad’s expression bends, the hardness being melted by a look of desperate pleading. “I need my family safe, and after everything Max and Conrad went through this weekend, I just need you to drop this for a little bit.”

Closing my laptop with a sigh, I splay my fingers over the gray machine and look at him.

“So you’re dropping it?”

I shrug. “That’s what you want me to do.”

“But will you?” He leans in, studying my expression.

I tip my head, softening my gaze and talking quietly. “Dad, I know you’re hurting right now. Max giving up baseball, Uncle Conrad…all these people lying to you. People you thought you could trust. But can I make a point that you’ll probably hate?”

His eyebrows dip into a sharp V.

“Maybe none of them would have lied if they weren’t so worried about your reaction. Maybe…they would have come to you for help instead.”

“Are you trying to say I’m some kind of scary beast or something?”

“Sometimes,” I whisper so softly that maybe he can’t hear me.

He does.

I can tell by the look on his face.

Reaching for his hand, I curl my fingers around his and smile. “Dad, I love you. And I know how much you love us too, but you can’t keep putting your dreams and expectations on Max this way. You can’t do that to any of us. These are our lives. And I know you want to protect us, but you can’t do that forever. You need to let us figure out our own mistakes, work out our own dreams.”

“I’m letting you follow your dreams,” he mumbles. “You want to save the world. I’m all for that.”

I grin. “And what if I fall for someone you don’t think is good enough for me?”

“You mean how Max has fallen for Cairo? And apparently there’s nothing I can do about it!” he spits.

“Well, Dad, there isn’t. They like each other, a lot, and if you just gave the guy a chance, you’d see how good he and Max are together. He’ll take care of her, you know?”

“I thought that was my job,” Dad mutters.

“It was, but she’s not your baby anymore. None of us are.”

Dad cringes, his jaw working to the side as he tries to take in this weird role-reversal. I’m kind of reeling too, but it’s one of those golden moments I have to snatch and hold for as long as I can.

I’m basically lecturing my father and he’s listening.

Who knows where this could lead?

If he buys into this conversation, it could open up a whole new world where Vincent Mancini might not get judged as Satan the second he walks through my door.

“Chloe…” Dad squeezes my hand with a sigh. “While you’re under my roof, whether you like it or not, you are my responsibility. And you may not be babies, but I love you and care about you enough to protect you. So if you’re trying to help Max get out of her grounding, it’s not going to work. I’ll let her play guitar for this prom thing, but she still has to be taken to and from school, and her weekends will be spent playing baseball or hanging out here. I’m not changing my mind on that.”

I nod.

“And as for you, leave this Mancini thing alone. If you’re right and it is some big cover-up, then it could lead to trouble. And I never want to walk into another situation where my daughter’s life is threatened. Do you get me?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Paying that Santiago guy was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I want that asshole to go down. And maybe once I’ve dealt with him, maybe then I’ll spare a thought or two for Nick Mancini, okay?”

His little speech gives me hope and for a second I have the fleeting thought that maybe I should tell him everything I already know. Tell him what Vincent and I got up to over Spring Break.

But instinct warns me to shut the hell up. Dad’s just held out an olive branch that will snap in half the second I admit to sneaking around.

He’ll compare me to Max and what she’s gotten up to. He’ll picture me in Escapar with that Santiago guy and his fear will have me on permanent lockdown the way Max is. We already have to ask for permission every time we leave the house. Both my parents are asking for every last detail before we walk out the door.

I guess I can understand why. That night at the club must have scared the crap out of Dad.

The look on his face as he thundered out of there with Max.

The club.

Outside the club, with that woman I still can’t figure out.

Her beautiful face flashes through my mind—her dark hair, perfectly shaped eyebrows, flawless makeup…the beauty spot on her upper lip.

My insides ping as a voice flitters through the back of my mind.

“She even had a beauty spot on her upper lip.”

Who said that to me?

“Now get on with your homework.” Dad leans across to kiss my cheek before lumbering out of the room.

As soon as he’s cleared the door, I whip my laptop open and start a new search: Luisa Garcia Escapar Brazenwood.

A photo pops up of the petite woman dwarfed between two tall men. It’s an article about the Summer Rock Festival auditions and how Tomas Santiago and his brother-in-law and business partner, Donny Garcia, are hosting the event.

I enlarge the image and squint at the screen, spying the black spot on her upper lip. I can picture someone tapping her upper lip as she describes it to me.

“Camila.” I gasp as the thing I’ve been trying to remember since Saturday night finally pops into my conscience.

Todd McCrae’s girlfriend described Luisa Garcia in detail when she told me about the lovely female detective who looked like a model and even had a beauty spot on her upper lip.

The woman who came and took away Todd’s stuff was no detective.

That was the sister of Tomas Santiago—the guy who threatened my family.

I have another dot. Another piece of the puzzle.

Now I just need to figure out how it all fits together.