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“Stop,” she ordered, holding the gun firmer. “I said stop. Stay right there.”

“C’mon, Claire Bear. You don’t even know how to work that thing.”

Claire inched her finger closer to the trigger.

Her dad took a step forward.

She pulled the trigger.

All Claire could see was stars. Bubbly, too-bright stars, like fizz popping off in her brain, then came the pain. White-hot, it scoured from the top of her forehead all the way to the base of her skull. The ringing sound was so loud, she was certain she’d been sucked through some sort of hatch, and now she was free-falling.

But she found her feet, and somebody steadied her. Gentle fingers pried at her hand. Too soft to be anyone but Seth’s, so she let go as her vision faded back in.

The cornfield.

The stars—the actual stars.

The gun.

It had flown back when she’d fired it and smacked her right on the head, nearly knocking her out. The power—she hadn’t been ready for it.

Seth had it now. He was in front of her, pointing the weapon forward. Half his face was covered in red, trickling from his cheek and ear. Claire’s focus snapped to her dad, who was still on his feet. He hobbled toward them like an injured animal, gripping his shoulder as blood seeped through his fingers.

“You shot me, you bitch.”

“Stay back, Ron!” Seth’s voice boomed. “I said stay the fuck back. Get down on your knees right now, I am not joking, I will shoot you.”

But her dad didn’t stop. He barreled toward them.

Seth fired down. At this point, Claire’s ears couldn’t pop any harder. Her dad yowled as the bullet pierced his leg, causing his feet to slip out beneath him. He toppled over and landed on the ground, writhing.

It didn’t feel real, but nothing had in so long.

Seth’s muffled voice pulled her back in, his eyes desperate. “Claire, the trunk of my car, cuffs. Now, please.”

She ran on autopilot to get them, scrambling to the trunk and popping the hood on the way there. She snatched the handcuffs and ran back to Seth as fast as her legs would let her. He still had her dad at gunpoint when she returned. As he took the cuffs, he handed her the gun and nodded. She understood what he meant—for her to keep the gun on her dad. Seth forced him on his stomach and straddled him, prying his arms behind his back.

“Should’ve gone for the kill shot, at least,” her dad said, his voice grainy with pain.

“Oh, you’re not dying.” Seth forced his hands together and snapped the cuffs on, tightening them to the point her dad’s hands look like they might burst. “It’s gonna be a long, miserable road back to Hell for you, Ron.”

With his face smooshed in the grass, her dad peered back at Seth. Then, all he did was laugh.

Claire’s head became light. Her vision turned white at the edges, then Seth was in front of her, his face bloody and bruised. “You’re okay,” he mouthed.

But she couldn’t feel her legs anymore.

She fell into the galaxies above.

THIRTY-FIVE

It felt like a gong was going off in the back of Seth’s mind, and the hospital’s lights weren’t helping. The stitches on his forehead still ached as he perched on the edge of the bed in his room, where Lieutenant Delaney lifted her nose up to observe his wounds from a different angle. “At least you’ll still be pretty.”

He laughed, even though it hurt his face.

All last night and all today had been a mix of doctor visits and detailing statements to different officials. Lieutenant Delaney had shown up a while ago to check on his condition, just as he’d been given the news that he could leave soon. He’d been so relieved to see a familiar face, he’d almost hugged her.

“You know it’s not too late to take the pain meds they offered,” Delaney said.