Chapter 53

Lettie

I’m frozen in place against the wall, trying not to think the worst of the worst.

Two shots.

My mother is dead.

Brooke is dead.

Wait.

I hear Brooke and my mother both screaming, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. My ears still ring from the loud shots in the enclosed space, but I don’t care. I can hear well enough to know Mom’s voice. My heart lifts.

As if we’ve coordinated our efforts, Mandy and I simultaneously spring away from our respective walls to take a peek inside Ken’s office.

I probably should have stayed put. I’ve no idea if there’s still a threat. But an irresistible need to see my mom, to make sure she’s unharmed, overrules my better judgment.

A scream, this time my own, bursts out at the sight of the carnage. Two bodies lie on the floor—Evan and Ken. Blood is everywhere, with a grotesque aroma that I won’t soon forget.

Mom rushes at me like she’s going to make a tackle. In a way, she does, slamming into me so hard I nearly lose my balance.

Willow and Emily rush into the room moments later. My ears are still blocked, so I wasn’t aware of their approaching footsteps. But I can hear, for the second time that day, sirens blaring in the distance. Also audible are Aunt Emily’s throaty sobs as she drops to her knees beside Uncle Ken, who doesn’t move a muscle. I glance behind to see Willow hovering just outside the office. Her eyes are glazed over, frozen with fear.

Jay must have told Emily and Willow something was going on. He probably relayed my text, which would explain why they’d arrived before the police. Everyone is crying, including me. A trace of gun smoke hangs in the air like a hovering mist.

Mom’s checking me over as if I might have been injured, and I’m doing the same with her. We’re simultaneously asking if the other is okay, and then my mom seems to figure something out. Her expression changes. “Did you break the glass in the hall?”

I nod.

Mom hugs me tighter. “That was so damn stupid and dangerous, and I can’t love you and thank you enough. I think you may have saved our lives.”

She leaves me to go to Aunt Emily, who is kneeling beside Uncle Ken. Emily searches for a pulse, placing her fingers on his neck. She tries to flip him over, but he’s immovable.

“Wait for the ambulance,” Mom tells her. “He might still be alive, and moving him could be harmful.”

He’s not alive, though. I’m sure of it. Same as I’m sure Evan is dead. The only dead people I’ve ever seen have been at wakes. The sight is surreal. My brain is working overtime to process the scene and, like it or not, I’m sure the memories of these smells, sights, and sounds will stay with me forever.

I’ve no idea what’s happened here—how both Ken and Evan ended up in a pool of blood—but that’s unimportant. Aunt Emily is in shock. We all are. Unfortunately, my aunt is in for more traumatic news. She doesn’t know yet about Ken and Riley.

We’re all hugging, crying, stunned and dazed. Mandy Kumar, who seems to have emergency training, evaluates Evan and Ken and somberly shakes her head, confirming our worst fears. The sirens grow louder.

Before I know it, the police arrive. They hold my father and Samir Kumar back, as well as most of the neighborhood who came to check on the commotion.

My mom is scanning the room. She checks all around—looking for something, it seems—but we’re being escorted outside as police, firefighters, and EMTs swarm in.

Before we’re forced to leave, she takes one last look, then shakes her head as if in disbelief. Maybe she’s processing the scene, surveying the horror. But I think not. It’s something else.

She starts to speak. I hope she’s going to tell me what’s on her mind—above and beyond the obvious. Instead, she puts her arm around me, pulls me in close. “I love you,” she whispers. “With all my heart, I love you so much.”

I’m crying. Rivers of tears streak down my face. I’m shaking, too, and it feels like I’ll never stop. The EMTs are checking me over, asking all kinds of questions, but I insist I’m fine.

My dad is there, horror-struck, examining me for injuries as well.

Then Mom and Dad embrace each other—full love. Whatever trouble they had before, I think it’s over and done with.

I’m all right.

She’s all right.

Those are the only things that matter now.