the ones around us are home to crows, and I hear them moving on their branches. They’re very unsettled tonight, shifting and cawing and fluttering off the branches and back again. Above them, the sky feels like a magnifying glass, focusing on us standing here. The night is so clear, and the stars are a river.
For a moment, it’s like nothing exists at all beyond us. It’s just me and Liam and the trees and the night sky.
The world revolves around us.
And the words rise in me of their own accord, fast, effortless, like air, racing unseen past that thing in my chest before it can catch them, and tumbling out into the cold air before I can think: “I love you.”
It feels good. And right. Liam’s arm tightens around me. He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he says, and he steals one, two, three more kisses, as warm as sunshine.
“No promises, though,” I add.
“Whatever you say, Barnes,” Liam says, pulling me in close.
The stars alone bear witness to the huge smile on my face.
Well, the stars and the crows.
“No promises,” I repeat.
Auburn, Pennsylvania
December 31
CROW POPULATION:
97,361 AND COUNTING
Chapter Sixty-Eight
I STAND ON THE EDGE OF the sidewalk that ends too soon and watch as Liam drives away. The red taillights blur and then fade into the night, and I still don’t go inside. Instead, for once, I let myself imagine the future. I imagine a future in which we don’t say “No promises,” but promise each other everything. I imagine coming home to Liam, and the thought makes me smile.
Boom! I startle, and look up. An arch of red light streaks across the sky. The fireworks are starting. I head toward the house, suddenly aware of how dark it is. Why aren’t any lights on? It isn’t even that late.
And it’s New Year’s.
It isn’t until I get to the front step that I realize all of the windows are open. It isn’t until I’m standing there, inches away from him, that I realize I’m not alone. He doesn’t turn on the light in the foyer, but I can see his outline in the dark. I get the distinct feeling he’s been waiting for me, and the thought turns my stomach sour. What have I come home to? When did they release him?
I step to the door and try to recall that good feeling that I had just a second ago, but his presence has scared the happy thought. It is hiding somewhere in the shadows of my memory. Because he’s broken the protection order. He’s here. And I could try to run away, but the girls are probably terrified. Or hurt.
The house is too dark.
I open the door, and he is a six-foot shadow in the dark.
And then I remember the thought I just held a moment ago, the one time I let myself imagine a bright future.
I wonder what it would feel like to come home and not be afraid of what’s waiting inside.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
THE LIGHTS AREN’T JUST OFF IN the house: the power is out. No lights. No heat. He’s shut it all off as punishment.
I’m in my room with the girls, in the dark. It’s quiet downstairs, and tonight I almost wish for the music. Something to break the tension. The thing in my chest is panicking, flapping its wings and railing against the bars of its cage. My heart is cracking my chest, a hammer against my ribs.
We stay upstairs. We stay quiet. We stay hidden.
I need to call the cops. Where is the cell phone?
And then another thought.
Where is the gun?
Crack!
A red light streaks across the sky. More fireworks.
“Can we use the lantern?” Juniper asks. “I’m scared.”
“In a bit,” I say. I’m holding her, but I’m distracted by my own fear.
I hear voices rise from downstairs. An argument. It is brief and muted. I wish that were all of it, but the feeling that this will get worse before it gets better won’t go away.
I think of the crawl space in the basement.
We need to get out.
“Girls, I have to get Mom,” I say. I don’t know what I’m doing, I just know I need to move. It’s always the waiting that gets to me.
“Please, Leighton,” Campbell says, and her voice cracks. I don’t think any of us could explain it. We just know how bad this might get.
Boom!
I walk over to the window as another firework goes off, and I jump at the noise. It shoots into the night and breaks