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I turn to Widow, hold out my hand. “Give me the gun, Widow.”

Her gaze flicks to me, back to Ethan. “Can’t do that.”

“You should listen to her,” Ethan erupts. His words are panicked, tripping over each other. “Ava’s really smart, and if she says you should give her the gun, then you should, because she’s a good person and she’ll—”

“Give me the gun so I can shoot him,” I tell Widow.

Forty-Three

Micah

I take a second to clean up my face in the rearview mirror, highly aware that the last time I saw Ava I was crying, and this really doesn’t need to become a pattern. I flick my headlights on and drive down the lane, making a left and taking a deep breath. I need to get my shit together, be cool when I see Ava. Not a bouncing puppy with his tongue hanging out, begging to be loved.

It’s full dark now, my headlights bouncing off the refrigerators lining Hailey’s yard as I pull into Restoration Acres. They sweep the sign, find Hailey, her hair brightly illuminated. Ava, small and pale, hugging herself. A woman with silver hair holding a gun, and Ethan, face twisted in a snarl, hands in the air, all of his menace focused on Ava.

“Absolutely fucking not,” I say.

And I get out of the car.

Forty-Four

Ava

I know what it is to be hated, to be the outcast. I know what it’s like to speak and have no one hear. I’ve been told to shut up and calm down, been ignored and brushed aside, politely asked to just stop being so adamantly myself. But I don’t think anyone has ever actually wanted to kill me.

Not until now.

Ethan is an injured animal, backed into a corner, looking for the weak link, the prey that will make him a predator once again. Hailey already hurt him, and Widow’s got a gun, so that leaves me.

“You won’t shoot me,” he says. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Not yet,” I tell him.

We all freeze when we hear a car engine slowing, the yard brightly lit as it turns into the driveway.

“Shit,” Widow says, still holding the gun on Ethan. “What now?”

“Widow . . .” Hailey says as she edges past her boyfriend, eyes downward. “I don’t think we have much—” There’s a cracking noise from where the egg rests on the ground beneath the tree and something in my shoulder gives out, stretching. I scream, clutching at it.

“Uh . . . guys?” Ethan says, all malice drained from his voice, his hands lowering. “What the fuck is that?”

He’s hit from the side and goes down in a tangle of limbs, Micah coming out on top, pinning Ethan’s shoulder to the ground with his knees. He drives a solid punch right into Ethan’s nose, which flattens with a crunching sound.

I feel something slide beneath my palm, under my skin. I press down, feel it give a little, then dive back into the depths of me, to finish what it started.

“No!” I scream, and Micah pauses, still straddling Ethan, blood spattered across his face.

“Ava? Are you okay?” he asks.

“Fuck, man,” Ethan says, his voice blood choked. “You broke my—”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s all right,” Hailey says, but she’s not talking to her boyfriend. She’s behind me, on the ground, her tone calm and coaxing. “You can do it, you’re almost there. Almost there, just . . .”

“Fucking nose!” Ethan finishes, then strikes upward, knocking Micah off him. He rolls to the side, and Ethan dives after him, their bodies hitting solidly as they grapple for purchase.

“Leave them to it,” Widow whispers to me, taking the gun off the boys and grabbing my elbow. “We’ve got more—”

“No, wait, Micah,” I say, spinning out of her grip.