Havoc

“I can’t say that I approve of you dating my daughter’s ex-boyfriend, but . . .” He becomes conscious of his volume, lowering his voice. “I always liked him, and I can tell you really care about him.”

I nod, and my uncle nods too.

“You’re going to have to move out of the apartment you have with Danica. I doubt she’ll stick around there long anyway, now that Mike is out of the picture. But I don’t want you living with him—you need to focus on school, and I want you keeping your grades up.”

When I say nothing, he notices.

“Was that your plan?”

“It was a temporary plan,” I stammer, and my uncle considers me.

“Temporary is fine. Next semester, you’ll be in the dorms. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” I say, closing the distance between us and hugging him so he can’t see the relieved tears springing to my eyes.

My uncle’s shirt is crisp against my cheek as he pats my back. “I’m proud of you, Hailey. You’re going to accomplish great things.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, hoping he knows I’m thanking him for more than the compliment. I’m thanking him for being the first in our family to brave a new life, for being the first to go to college, for paving the way for me. I’m thanking him for loving me, for caring about me, for not forgetting about his family or his roots. I realize why he sees himself in me, because I can now see a bit of myself in him—I can see myself in twenty years, still caring deeply about the farm and the family that shaped me into who I am.

“You’re welcome,” he says, hugging me until I let him go.

In the sitting room, I hug my mom, and she assures me that she’s going to find a way to fly me home for Christmas. I hug my dad, and he assures me that he won’t make Teacup into bacon even if she eats his very last shoe. I hug my uncle, and he assures me that he’ll get me into the dorms next semester. I hug my aunt, and she assures me that she’ll talk to Danica.

I hug my little brother, and he insists he’s coming along.

Luke begs and whines and negotiates with my parents, while I stare at the stairwell waiting for Danica to fly down it on her broomstick. I haven’t seen or heard from her since she told me she hated me at dinner, but seeing as how I’m still breathing, I know this isn’t over.

Desperate to leave while my lungs are still working, I tell my parents I’ll drive Luke the hour and a half back to my uncle’s house before it’s time for them to fly home on Saturday, and they finally agree to let him leave with me. He bounds up the stairs to the guest room to grab some clothes, and I stand by the front door, chewing on my lip and tapping my fingers against my leg and curling my toes in my tennis shoes.

There’s no way it can be this easy. Danica would sooner burn this whole house down than let me leave it unscathed. It’s not in her to lose. She doesn’t know how.

When I hear footsteps thundering down the upstairs hallway, my whole body tenses, but then Luke appears at the top of the stairs and jogs down them, flinging open the door to freedom. He steps onto the front porch, and I follow. The door closes behind me, and we take the stairs quickly. Leti isn’t here yet, but we don’t stop walking.

“Where are we going?” my brother asks, but I really have no idea. Away from here. Away from the front door.

“That way,” I say, pointing down the street. I pull out my phone and text Leti to meet us at the end of Danica’s road, and I’m sliding the phone back into my pants pocket when it finally happens—

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

Danica’s voice cuts through me, and I turn around to see her walking down the sidewalk to where my brother and I have frozen in our tracks. My fight-or-flight kicks in, demanding that I flee, that I run as fast as I can. But Luke is standing beside me, and I’ve run for long enough.

“Goodbye,” I say, and Danica gives me an icy smile. It’s chilling, how cold she looks as she steps in front of me. The pretense isn’t there anymore—the façade is gone, and so are her thousand pretty masks. There is no compassion or vulnerability or kindness in her eyes—only cold hatred, and I realize that even if I did run right now, she’d chase me down. This ends here, on a quiet sidewalk in front of her neighbor’s house.

“No hug?” she taunts in a sap-sweet voice, and I sicken of her games.

“What do you want?”

“What, I can’t want a hug from my cousin?”

Years on a farm have taught me never to turn my back on a dangerous animal, but in this moment, it’s all I can do. I turn away from her, and I tug Luke with me. “Let’s go.”

“I’m going to make your life a living hell, you know,” Danica promises, but I keep walking.

“You’ve already tried.”

“I haven’t even started,” she threatens as she stalks my every step, refusing to let me escape from her.

I glance at Luke, at the impressionable look he’s giving me, and I stop in my tracks. I’m running. I’m literally speed-walking down the sidewalk instead of teaching my little brother to stand up for himself. His school is full of Danicas, full of Graysons, and Luke needs to learn not to run.

I steel myself, and I turn around. “Okay, Danica, enlighten me. What are you going to do? Cry to your daddy some more?”

Her eyes flash with anger, but I know this battle has just begun.

“You think you’re something special, don’t you?” she snarls, and my response comes quick.