28

28

We stood on the roof and watched as the police led Julian out of my parents’ house in handcuffs. Maddie sat down and cried, either out of relief, or because of Noah, or both. I sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

Once the police had left, we took the stairs back down and walked to where we’d left the van. I drove us to the church where they’d shuttled everyone. We had to take a long route to circumvent all the damaged or closed roads.

I spotted Edan as soon as I pulled up, sitting on the steps at the front of the church. He stood as we approached, and I took a few quick steps as I drew closer, throwing my arms around him. He held me tightly, and I buried my face in his neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Your family’s inside,” he said when I pulled away. “Dorsey grabbed a ride with some people who were going to the hospital. He’s meeting Patrick there. They both need stitches.” He gingerly touched my hand, examining the gash on my arm. “You should probably get checked out too.”

I nodded, my eyes catching movement at the church door. It was Laurence. He lifted one hand.

“Give me a minute?” I asked, squeezing Edan’s hand. He nodded and squeezed it back.

I walked to Laurence and pulled him into a hug. He circled his arms around me, a bit loosely. I didn’t think he hugged people very often.

“We hug now,” I said. “I hope that’s OK.”

He laughed softly. “That’s OK.”

I smiled as I pulled away from him. His eyes flicked back to where Edan had gone to join Maddie, Priya, Laila, and Adriana. They were all sitting in the grass.

“I’m sorry about Noah,” he said, his gaze returning to me.

“Thanks,” I said around the lump in my throat.

He slid his hands into his pockets, a hint of awkwardness crossing his features. “It was really nice of you to come. I don’t think I would have made it out of there alive if it weren’t for you. And the rest of your team.”

“Well, you’re the only brother I have,” I said.

He smiled. “Unfortunately.”

“You’re not so bad,” I said, returning the smile. My eyes slid to the door. “Mom and Dad are inside?”

“Yeah. Do you want to see them?”

“In a minute. Can I say something first?”

He turned back to me. “Sure.”

“I don’t think you should stay here just because Mom wants you to. If you like Dallas and you have friends here, then fine, stay. But don’t let her make you feel guilty for the choices she made. For the choices she continues to make.”

He swallowed, his eyes flicking to the ground. He nodded.

“I don’t think I’m going to see Mom and Dad much for a while. Maybe forever,” I continued. “But I just want you to know that I’m always going to want to see you, OK? Even if you decide to stay here and you see them all the time. You can have whatever relationship you want with them, and you and I can still see each other. Often, I hope.”

His expression shifted to surprise. “I would like that. I . . .” He trailed off, and it took him a few moments to find the words. “I don’t particularly like it here. I had regrets when I came back, but I don’t really know where else to go, you know?”

“Well, Edan and I were talking about going to Guanajuato sometime soon. Our tía is always bugging us to visit. We could start there.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “That sounds nice.” He paused. “And it would make Dad really mad, so that’s a bonus. You know how he hates Tía Julia.”

“That alone is a great reason to go,” I said with a laugh. I glanced at the door again. “OK. I’m going to talk to Mom. Do me a favor?”

“Name it.”

“I’m going to ask her to come outside. Make sure Dad doesn’t try and ambush me?”

“You got it.” He grabbed the door and held it open for me.

I stepped inside, surveying the crowd. It was packed, the chattering creating a dull roar. Laurence crossed in front of me and walked a short distance to the corner nearest me. I spotted Dad first, standing stiffly with his eyes on his phone, brow furrowed. I saw Mom second. She’d already seen me, her mouth forming an O.

“Mom?” I called, not moving from the door and raising my voice to be heard over the noise. “Can I have a minute?”

Dad’s head popped up. His eyes swept over my face, to my bloody arm, to the sheathed machete sticking out of my back pocket. I thought he might look horrified, or even angry (it didn’t take much), but he just stared, a shadow of embarrassment crossing his features before he lowered his eyes. Laurence was beside him, but he didn’t have to stop Dad from doing anything. He didn’t make a move toward me.

Mom hurried over and pulled me into a tight hug. She was crying, talking so fast it was hard to understand her. She wanted to know why I was in Dallas. Why I didn’t call her. What had happened to my arm.

“Let’s go outside,” I said, extracting myself from her grip and turning to walk back outside. I led her down the church steps and to a quiet piece of grass. My friends were within view, and they turned to look. Mom glanced at them and then at me.

“Those are the kids from the videos, right? The ones you were in London with?”

“Yes.”

“When did you get back? How long have you been in Dallas? Why didn’t you call me, mija?”

“I haven’t heard from you since I left,” I said. “I wasn’t actually sure that you would want me to call.”

“Of course I want you to call,” she said, exasperated.

“Why didn’t you ever try to contact me? You never even emailed.”

“Well . . .” She shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “You made it clear that you didn’t want anything to do with us when you left. I didn’t know . . .” Her gaze was on my arm. “What happened?”

“A scrab claw.”

“It looks bad.”

“I’m going to the hospital in a minute.”

“Your brother said that you saved him.”

“I had help,” I said, tilting my head toward my friends.

“You’ve kept in touch with him.” It wasn’t a question. I nodded. “That’s good,” she said softly.

“Listen, I’m not going to give you my phone number because I don’t trust you not to give it to Dad. But I’m going to send you my new email address soon, OK? Maybe we can . . .” I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I really didn’t know what kind of relationship I wanted with Mom, and it was probably going to take me a while to figure it out. “I wouldn’t mind hearing from you occasionally,” I finally said.

She blinked back tears. “I think you should come for dinner. We should talk this out, as a family. Your father—”

“No,” I interrupted.

“Just one dinner, all four of us. You don’t just give up on family, you work things out, you try—”

“No,” I repeated.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

She frowned deeply but didn’t argue further. She was quiet for several moments, her gaze shifting to my friends.

“That boy . . .” she said, trailing off.

“Edan?”

“Edan. He looks very . . . rough. With the tattoos and the way he talked to your father.” She returned her attention to me. “He treats you well?”

“Yeah, Mom,” I said gently. “He treats me well. Thanks for asking.”

Edan noticed us watching him, a small smile crossing his lips. It was strange to me that anyone thought he looked rough.

I returned my attention to Mom. “I should go.” I gestured at my arm. “I think I need stitches.” And we had to call Noah’s parents. I took in a shaky breath.

Mom looked disappointed, but she hugged me tightly and then turned and quickly walked back inside. Laurence appeared at the door a moment later.

“We’re going over to the hospital,” I said. “I’ll call you later.”

“OK.”

I walked back over to Edan, slipping my arm around his waist as we headed to the van. I waved to Adriana, who had joined Laurence on the church steps. She smiled as she waved back.

“Everything OK?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I said. “Everything’s OK.”