Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning breathless, the nightmare of my father haunting me again. It was late, but I wasn’t surprised to discover my mother was still asleep. Lauren was up and getting ready for work. When I learned she had to cover the lunch shift and wouldn’t return until six o’clock, I thought about inviting Tommy over. I figured my mother’s shooting range plans were thwarted by Lauren’s work schedule anyway, even if she did wake up at a decent hour.

I called Tommy and was delighted to find out he wasn’t working. He arrived right after Lauren left. We sat down together on the couch, and I filled him in on everything I learned yesterday.

“She seriously bought a gun?” he asked. “Wow, she must be freaked out.”

“Yeah. She’s making me nervous.”

“Can I see it?”

“No! I don’t know where it is. I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing.”

“Em, it’s not a bad idea, if your father is as dangerous as it sounds.”

I looked at him like he was nuts. “You don’t think she’s acting paranoid?”

“She’s only trying to protect you. It’s understandable.”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe you think this makes sense…”

“The last time your father tried to kidnap you, she tried to stop him, right?”

I nodded.

“And what happened then?”

“My father attacked her, knocked her out. And Lauren… she was pretty bad. They said she was out for a couple of days.”

“So this time she wants to be prepared,” he said.

And for the first time, I understood. She didn’t want history to repeat it itself. What she kept saying over and over, that she wouldn’t let him get me this time.

“It still seems crazy to me. I mean, a gun? Even if I learn how to fire it, I don’t think I could actually shoot anyone.” But in truth, it wasn’t just anyone. My mother expects me to shoot my own father. I remembered enough of my early childhood to know that I once loved him. Can I really shoot him dead?

“Let’s hope you never have to,” he said, and took my hands into his.

“There is something I do want to learn, though. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to take you up on your offer. To show me how to drive.”

“Cool,” he said. “But how? Now that you’re under house arrest…”

“We can sneak out today. Lauren’s working ‘til six. It’s just a matter of timing it right with my mother.”

“It sounds like she’s waking up now,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure you want to bother her yet. She doesn’t sound good.”

I smirked. “That’s the best time to talk to her.”

“Didn’t know you could be so evil,” he said and laughed.

“Come on. I mean, Lauren is my sister, after all.” I gave him a quick kiss as I got up from the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

“You can do better than that, beautiful.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back down on the couch. His hands cupped my face and the kiss that followed was nothing short of incredible. “That was much better,” he said, his face still close to mine.

“Yeah,” I agreed, breathless. “You have to let me go now.”

But he kissed me again instead, wrapping his arms around me tightly. Inside, the heat flared in a perfect wave, warming my whole body. “So very hot,” he whispered.

“I’ll be right back, I swear.”

He made a face but released me, nonetheless.

The scene with my mother would have been comical if it weren’t so sad. She kept telling me to speak softer. I told her Lauren was at work, and she mumbled something about her head pounding. She took some pills and lay back down. Within minutes, she was out again.

I returned to the living room. “Let’s go.”

Tommy drove me to Manchez, to the open lot adjacent to the shop, where his father taught him how to drive. He put the old Nova in neutral, depressed the emergency brake, and killed the engine. “The first thing you should know about driving is…”

I took my seat belt off and slid next to him. It threw him off for a second, as he trailed off and inhaled deeply. “Well?”

“It’s important to be aware of your surroundings,” he finished. “There are a lot of bad drivers out there. You have to stay one step ahead of all the idiots.”

“You know, I’ve heard my mother say that a time or two as well.”

“It’s not enough to only look in front of you. You have to be aware of what’s going on to the right, left, and even behind you. Anticipate what everyone around you will do next. That’s the key to being a good driver.”

“Wow, that sounds hard,” I said. “It’s like I need super-senses to drive.”

“I’m not gonna lie—it does help. But if you pay attention, you’ll be okay.”

I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “I can do that.”

“On a manual transmission, there are three pedals on the floor, instead of the usual two in an automatic,” he continued, and moved his legs back to show me. “This one all the way to the left is the clutch. It’s what you use to shift gears.”

My brow furrowed. “I’m confused about when you’re supposed to shift… Is there a certain speed that determines what gear you should be in?”

“You can tell by the sound of the engine when it’s ready for the next gear, and by looking at the RPM gauge. Here, let me show you.” He fired the car back up and released the parking brake. “The car’s in neutral right now. This is the trickiest part when you’re starting out is putting the car in first gear without stalling it.” He demonstrated shifting it into gear and easing up on the clutch, while simultaneously pressing the gas. He drove for a while, pointing out when to shift gears. We arrived back at the lot.

“Any questions?” he asked.

“I guess not. Seems pretty straightforward.”

“Ready to give it a shot?”

I was nervous, my first time ever attempting to drive. “What if I crash?”

“We’ll take it slow. I’ll be sitting here right next to you. It’ll be fine.” He opened his door to switch seats with me. I slid to the driver’s side as he re-entered through the passenger side.

I took a deep breath in and exhaled, still nervous. Looking at the pedals and all the controls, I felt a little overwhelmed. I glanced over at Tommy, who smiled at me curiously.

“You sure you won’t get mad if I crash?” I said.

“This car is built like a tank. Besides, I can always fix it.” An easy grin appeared. “Go ahead and give it a try.”

I adjusted the seat, depressed the clutch, and attempted to shift it into first gear. It was somewhat difficult to move the stick, but I eventually pushed it hard enough. “Now I let off the clutch and press the gas? What about the brake?”

“Good question. Is the parking brake still on?” he asked.

“Yeah. Guess I need to take it off, right?”

“That would help,” he said and smiled.

“I don’t need to press the regular brake?” I asked, as I pulled the release.

“No, because we’re on a level surface, the car won’t move until you give it gas. Go ahead and ease up on the clutch a little, and slowly press the gas pedal.”

I must’ve eased up on the clutch too quickly or pressed the gas too slowly, because I stalled the car.

“It’s okay. I did that my first time, too. Takes a while to get used to the clutch,” he explained. “Put it in neutral, start it back up, and try again.”

My face blushed with embarrassment, but I did as he said. On my second attempt, I pressed the gas too quickly. The car revved and jumped forward. I hit the brake and stalled it again.

“Well, this is going splendidly,” I said, frustrated.

“You’ll get it.” He stroked my hair and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re doing fine.”

“Maybe third time’s the charm, right?” I shifted it to neutral, fired it back up and tried once more. This time, I was able to successfully move the car, though I drove it at old lady speed.

“See? I knew you could do it. Go ahead and drive faster.”

I gave it more gas and the engine whirled. I carefully shifted it to second gear in response. “It didn’t stall!”

“It won’t stall now. ’I think you’re getting the hang of it.”

“Yeah, this isn’t so bad.” I turned the corner of the lot.

“Try to slow down and downshift back to first.”

“Okay.” I let off the gas and shifted back to first gear before bringing it to a stop. It stalled a final time, dying in a dramatic shudder. “Guess that’s one way to kill the engine.” I put the parking brake on and set it into neutral.

“Seems to be your favorite method,” he said.

“Thanks for the lesson. I appreciate it.”

“You did very well for your first time. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Just have to keep practicing.” He was about to exit the car, when I stopped him.

“Where are you going?”

“You still want to drive?”

“No, but there’s no need for you get all the way out of the car.” I climbed on his lap, turning in to face him.

I leaned closer until my lips touched his. Cradling his head in my hands, I kissed him more passionately. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling my body against him. I moved from his lips down to his neck, kissing him as intensely as before. His body shuddered and he moaned. He suddenly grabbed my head to kiss me again, and the force, the pressure, was fantastic. I kept my face close to his afterwards, continuing to feel his energy.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He pressed his lips to mine once more, for a short, sweet kiss. “I love you, too.” His arms enclosed around me in a warm embrace.

“Guess we should head back, before my mother wakes up again,” I said, continuing to hold onto him.

“If we have to.” He moved back over to the driver’s side and fired the Nova up.

“Thanks for busting me out of prison.”

He smiled. “Anytime, beautiful.”

****

I was surprised to learn the shooting range was open on Sunday. When my mother dragged both Lauren and I there, I’d never felt more out of place. It was even worse than school. The dude who showed us how to fire the thing hadn’t brushed his teeth since 1984, but that didn’t stop him from grinning like an idiot the whole time. Just holding the gun in my hands felt…wrong. I stared at it, wondering if I would ever fire it for real. Can I make that life-or-death decision, when the time actually comes?

It took several times for me to get comfortable enough to hold the gun straight. Then when I actually fired it, the recoil alarmed me, and I let out a little girl scream. Lauren didn’t fare much better, though she didn’t scream. My mother was the only one who had any level of comfort at all—it was clear she had fired a weapon before. When did she learn that? It occurred to me there was a lot I didn’t know about her.

Afterwards, I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Roz at my house. She told me about a boy she met on the bus, now that I no longer rode with her. One of her suitors, I was certain, but still it was a shocker that she allowed him to sit with her. When my mouth gaped, she told me all about him and confirmed that he understood he was in the friend zone. I got the feeling she missed me. I missed her, too—all our talks on the bus, not to mention making fun of all the boys who drooled over her. I wished I’d never answered that stupid phone.

Sleeping that night was difficult. Maybe it was the trip to the firing range, or maybe just the overall energy around the house, but I was on edge all night. I attempted to heal myself, but it wasn’t happening. When I did manage to drop off, I had the nightmare again. This time, my father was larger and stronger. I kept trying to run from him, but his arms closed around me, and I couldn’t budge. He whispered in my ear, “I’m coming home, baby girl.”

I screamed and sat upright in my bed, my chest heaving. I grasped the turquoise heart of my necklace, the one Tommy had given me, and the cool temperature of the stone calmed me.

“Emily!” my mother yelled from down the hall. “Are you all right?” she asked as she rushed into my room.

“I’m fine,” I said.

She wrapped her arms around me. “I thought he was…”

“I’m fine,” I repeated. “Just had a nightmare. Sorry it woke you.”

Her fingers softly combed through my hair. “Was it about him?”

I didn’t want to admit it, but I never could lie to her. She always knew. “Yes.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” she said, continuing to stroke my hair. “I won’t let him take you.”

I thought her voice wavered, but I couldn’t feel anything from her. No sadness, no fear, no empathy—nothing.

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m going back to bed now.”

She released me and wiped her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom. Goodnight.”

****

I tried healing again to calm myself, and this time it worked—I got back to sleep. The next morning, I talked to Roz for a few minutes before class, and she seemed kinda distant.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing.” She pressed her lips together. I could tell she was thinking about something.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, I’m just nervous about my math test today.”

It was a plausible reason to be anxious. After all, it would be stupid to think every time she worried about something that it had to do with a vision. And math tests do suck, especially algebra tests. There’s only so many times you can solve for x before you start to lose it.

So her excuse worked—I actually bought it. That is, until lunch, when I arrived to see Roz having what appeared to be a serious conversation with Tommy.

I wish I had Tommy’s hearing. I did catch the tail end of the conversation, though, a few words Roz blurted out before he signaled to her I was coming. “I would want to know.”

“What would you want to know?” I asked as I sat down.

“Roz, can we switch seats today?” Tommy asked. The look he gave her appeared to be some strange communication between the two of them. She conceded, no questions asked.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I asked.

Tommy settled in on my side, straddling the bench with his body turned in toward me. He took my hand in his and massaged it. “Nothing to worry about, beautiful.”

“What would you want to know?” I repeated, looking at Roz.

“Em, it’s nothing.” She unwrapped her sandwich in record time. “I’m hungry. Let me eat.”

I knew she was holding back; I could feel her nervousness again. “Come on, Roz, you’ve had math already. Give it up.”

Tommy slid in closer to me and leaned in next to my ear. “Just relax, Em,” he whispered. He rubbed my back, and the feel of his warm hands caressing me did serve to relax me. But I wasn’t about to let it go. I opened my mouth to speak, when a boy approached our table.

“Can I sit with you guys?” he asked, looking mostly at Roz. He was about the same height as me, with short black hair and black-rimmed glasses. I could tell from his eyes he had some Asian ancestry, but his skin tone was almost as pale as mine. He looked familiar, and for a moment I pegged him as one of the fun geeks that hang around playing D&D after school. Then it dawned on me. He was one of the boys on the bus that had asked Roz out before, my favorite one. I remembered rooting for him.

“Sure,” Roz responded. He took a seat next to her, and the look on his face was pure bliss. I’d never seen anyone happier. “Em, this is Wes.”

“I remember you from the bus,” I said. “I hear you’ve taken my place.”

“Who could ever take your place, Em?” Roz joked.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I smiled at Roz. “I can only imagine what she’s said about me.”

Roz ignored me, continuing the introductions. “This is Tommy.”

“You’re from Manchez, right?” Wes asked.

“Yeah,” he said, with a twinge of dread in his voice. “What’ve you heard?”

Wes grinned. “Funny, you don’t seem like a master criminal.”

Tommy and Roz both laughed. “It’s all true,” she said.

I threw a balled-up napkin at Roz’s head. “Roz! Don’t believe everything you hear, Wes.”

“It’s cool. Physical security has always been a topic of interest for me.”

By the way he said that, it was clear there was something more to it.

Tommy tilted his head to the side, apparently catching the same vibe I did. “Maybe the better question is, what are you into?”

Wes smiled. “Oh, I’m a computer geek. I code, play RPGs, surf the net.”

He was holding back. But I thought about Tommy, Roz, and me—our powers and everything that had happened recently.

Everyone’s got secrets.

“So this one’s been briefed?” Tommy asked Roz. Scott, the last boy who befriended her, ended up trying to force himself on her. The fight that followed was not pleasant.

Roz narrowed her eyes at Tommy, but Wes was still beaming.

“Absolutely,” Wes replied. “I swear my intentions are honorable.”

“Good,” Tommy said.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t want to piss you off. I saw what happened to the last guys who made you angry…”

I remembered the condition of Scott and his friends after the fight. “You do realize they jumped him, right?”

“That’s not what Scott said.”

Tommy smirked. “Let ’em think what they want.”

“Half the school is scared of you, you know,” Wes said, as he pushed his glasses up.

“Cool.”

I laughed, considering how gentle Tommy was with me, how totally affectionate his nature was.

“What?” Tommy said. “You don’t think of me as a badass?”

I suppressed my laughter as best I could. “Not really.” I turned in toward him. “But I do feel safer when you’re around.”

His smile resurfaced. “Guess that’s all that matters,” he said, gazing into my eyes.

I took hold of his hands and continued to stare, mesmerized by his gorgeous green eyes.

“Oh boy,” Roz said. “I’m glad you’re here, Wes. Now I have someone to talk to when they do that.”

I smiled but didn’t look away. Neither did Tommy.

****

The lack of sleep hit me hard in the afternoon. I kept thinking about my father.

Does he have a power, too? Is it possible these powers are somehow genetic?

Between thinking about my father and losing consciousness, I was pretty useless in class. So before I got sent to the office, I decided to go see Judy instead.

“Emily, you look tired,” Judy said as I entered.

I yawned. “You could say that.”

“What’s going on?” She came out from her desk and joined me. Her long black hair was down, a style I’d never seen before. In fact, she looked radiant.

“Maybe I should ask you that. You look incredible.”

“I’m happy,” she said, with a lovesick sigh.

I couldn’t help but smile. She had rekindled a romance with her high school sweetheart, Adam, and he had taken her on a weekend getaway. “How was your vacation?”

“It was perfect.” She was the picture of contentment: naturally relaxed and exuding a kind of calming energy. “But how are you doing? You feel a bit warm.”

It didn’t surprise me she could feel my temperature even though she was standing a few feet away. A healer herself, she always knew when something was wrong with me.

“Didn’t sleep well last night.” I sighed. “I know you said you’re not sure about where these powers come from. I’m wondering…is it possible they’re hereditary?”

Judy’s head tilted slightly. “Where is this question coming from?”

“It’s a long story,” I said in a yawn.

“Let me treat you, and you can tell me all about it.” She walked me over to a bed and set up a chair next to it. I lay down, closing my eyes. I heard the sound of her hands rubbing together for a minute before she rested them on my head. A powerful surge of energy channeled through me.

“Whoa, that was intense!”

“Thought you could use a jumpstart,” she said. “Tell me what’s going on, Em.”

I relayed all the events of the past week in all their horrible glory, as my body continued to feed off the healing energy from her hands. Judy listened, but didn’t offer any advice. It may have been because she was healing me, but still I could’ve used some direction. Is she avoiding my question for a reason?

****

My mother picked me up from school. Without so much as a greeting, she launched into an update of our survival to-do list. I learned the security system was scheduled to be installed on Tuesday. I joked about her putting bars on the windows, but she just informed me they weren’t needed for the system we’re getting.

For once, I was happy I couldn’t feel her emotions. Judging from the bags under her eyes, I guessed she didn’t get back to sleep after I woke her up. It was clear the looming threat of my father’s return was taking its toll on her.

“Mom, why don’t you relax tonight? Go watch a movie or something.”

“I’ll relax once they’ve arrested him. Or once I kill him myself.”

My lips parted in shock. I knew it was bad, but I didn’t think it was that bad. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“If he tries to take you, I have to protect you. By any means necessary.”

I could tell by the tone in her voice she was serious. I found it difficult enough to imagine killing a total stranger, but someone I knew, and once loved? My power and most likely my purpose in life was healing. Not exactly compatible with killing someone. But still I had to wonder, if my father “did some things in the military,” as my mother so creepily put it, what did that mean for me? The fears that had haunted me while Judy was healing me slammed home again. Is it possible I inherited that capacity to be evil, to kill even?

The knock on the front door interrupted my thoughts. After the last time I tried to answer the door and my mother nearly knocked me down, I knew I was better off staying on the couch. In seconds, she was at the peephole. That I expected. What shocked me was the gun she carried in her hand.

“Mom, what the hell are you doing? Put that thing away!”

“It’s only your friends.” She drew back from the door. “He should already be here by now, Emily. We can’t take any chances.”

“Yeah, but do you really think he’s going to knock?” She shot me a hard look and left.

I opened the door to find both Tommy and Roz standing outside. I let them in, confused by their visit at first, but then I remembered their little conspiracy at lunch. “So what have the two of you been talking about?”

“You, of course,” Tommy said, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “What happened? Did she bring the gun out or something?”

“Yes,” I said, annoyed. “I learned how to shoot it yesterday, but that doesn’t make me feel any more comfortable with it.”

Roz hugged me. “Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”

I half-smiled. She was right in sensing something else. The gun itself was less a threat than the question of whether or not I’d be capable of using it. And whether I had evil within me, like my father. I reminded myself that my father’s evil powers were still just a theory. Maybe he was just a regular whack job. Of course, that came with an entirely different set of hereditary problems. I put my face in my hands and sighed.

“I guess it’s this whole thing. It feels like we’re sitting around waiting for my father to come and take me. It’s like having sex in an old horror movie: you’re just asking to die.”

Tommy laughed. “Well let’s hope this isn’t a horror movie then.” A wicked grin appeared on his face.

Roz fidgeted with her nails, and that same nervous feeling from the morning resurfaced.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s up?” I asked her.

“I was talking to Tommy, and we thought it might be a good idea to see a picture of your father, so we’ll know him if we see him.”

“Is that all? Why didn’t you just ask?” It was a simple enough request. But then I thought about it and realized I didn’t have a single photo of him. All of his pictures were taken down years ago. “Mom?”

“What is it?” she called from the dining room. I joined her in there, followed by Roz and Tommy.

The gun sat right on the table, next to her. Without even realizing it, I made a face.

“Get used to it, Emily. He’s not catching me off-guard this time,” she said.

“Do you have a picture of him?” I asked.

“What the hell do you want that for?” she said, seemingly startled by the question.

“So Roz and I know what he looks like,” Tommy explained. “If we see him, we’ll call the police.”

“Good thinking,” she said. “Let me dig up the old photo albums. Give me fifteen minutes.”

She left, and after we got some drinks from the kitchen, we sat down at the dining room table to wait for her.

“So did you go to a firing range, to learn how to shoot the gun?” Tommy asked. “How’d you like it?”

“Can we stop with the gun talk!” My voice was louder than I’d intended. The room fell silent. Tommy looked down, and I felt something akin to guilt from him. Roz gaped, but still grabbed my hand.

“I’m sorry. Can we just talk about something else?” The last thing I wanted to discuss was my violent family tree. Or the lingering questions in my mind about my father and what his legacy meant for me.

“Of course,” Tommy said. “Roz, have you talked to Nydia lately? Wondering how she’s doing.”

Nydia was the girl whose mother had been murdered by the doctor, a death we were unable to prevent.

“I haven’t seen her in class,” Roz said. “I tried to text her, but she didn’t respond.”

“I hope she’s okay,” I said, relieved we’d moved on to a different subject.

“Maybe she went to live with a relative?” Tommy said. With her mother dead and her father out of the picture, it was a possibility.

“But her grandmother lives here in town, too,” Roz said. “They were close. I would think she would live with her.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I said. Strange. I knew Nydia was likely still grieving the loss of her mother, but ignoring texts? It didn’t sound like something she would do.

Before I could formulate any theories, my mother returned with an old photo album. She sat down at the end of the table and carefully opened the overstuffed book. I scooted my chair next to her.

“I got rid of a lot of the pictures, in an effort to move on,” she said.

The look in her eyes—a little pained, a little ashamed—told me there was a part of her that still loved him. I wanted to ask, but I knew it would hurt to talk about it. She continued to flip through the album, pointing out embarrassing baby pictures of both me and Lauren.

“You were so cute,” Roz exclaimed.

“She still is,” Tommy said.

I blushed. My mother jumped ahead to the back of the album, leafing through the pictures until she found one.

“This is the most recent picture I have,” she said, and handed it to me.

He looked different from the man in my nightmares, probably because he was happy in the photo. Seeing his sandy blond hair and blue eyes sent a chill down my spine. There was no mistaking he was my father.

I handed it to Tommy. He looked at it and then passed it to Roz.

Her jaw dropped, but the emotions I sensed flaring up inside her worried me more than her expression. A surge of fear passed through me. She saw something. A vision of my father.

“Thanks,” I said to my mother, as I took the photo from Roz and handed it back to her.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, looking at Roz.

Roz was still out of it, so I answered for her. “She’s fine. We’re going to go to the living room now and watch some TV.”

Once my mother was out of earshot, I turned to Roz.

“What exactly did you see in your vision?”

“What vision?”

“The vision you already discussed with Tommy,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it’s about my father.”

She avoided my eyes, as did Tommy.

“Guess we’re busted,” he said to Roz.

“How’d you know?” she asked.

“I felt your fear before, when you looked at the picture. The last time I felt that from you was when you saw me die.”

“You feel emotions?” she said. “I knew you felt pain, but…”

“Wow, you’re empathic?” Tommy said. “That’s so cool.” His smile quickly dissolved. “Why am I just finding out about this now?”

“Yeah, Em,” Roz said. “You accuse us of holding back, and then you keep something this big a secret?”

“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret. I don’t know, it’s just weird, what was I supposed to say, ‘Oh hey, by the way, I’m also empathic…’”

“Uh, yeah,” Roz said, her expression a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

I gave them both an apologetic smile. “I’m telling you now. And I promise to always tell you two first, if anything changes.”

Roz smiled and gave an affirmative nod.

Tommy eyed me curiously. “Can you tell what I’m feeling right now?”

“Don’t have to be empathic to figure that one out,” Roz muttered.

He inched closer to me on the couch. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes.” I took his hand in mine. “So talk, Roz. What’d you see?”

“You remember when I told you about the dream I had of the homeless guy that got squeezed to death?”

“Yeah. You didn’t think it was a vision.”

“I was wrong. Last night, I saw a man attack someone.” She looked down, as she rubbed the back of her neck. “It was him. Your father was in my vision. I’m sure of it now. And he did the same thing he did to the homeless guy in my other vision. He’s holding him from behind and the victim’s struggling for a few seconds. Then the victim slumps forward, limp.”

“Is he squeezing him?” I asked.

“I couldn’t tell. I think your father’s hand was over his mouth, to stop him from screaming, maybe?”

“The victim… did he die?”

“I’m not sure. He stopped moving, but maybe he just passed out,” she said. I could tell from her nervousness that she was genuinely afraid. And from how she described her vision, I understood why. My father is attacking people, maybe killing them. My father.

I took a deep breath in and exhaled.

“It’s going to be all right, Em. We’ll be on the lookout for him now,” Tommy said. “We won’t let him get anywhere near you.” He gave my hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” I agreed, though I wondered. I got a feeling that somehow, the worst was yet to come.