“He’s lost. I know how that feels, Lex. He just has to find his way back.”

“What if he can’t?”

I take her hand. “Then we’ll find him ourselves.”

“Are you in love with Marco?”

I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Does he know that?” Lex never lets me off easy.

“Does Abel know you’re in love with him?”

“I can’t afford to take that kind of chance with him. He’ll break my heart.” She sounds so sad and scared.

I tuck one of my legs underneath me. “Abel has been in love with you forever, Lex. He would never hurt you.”

“Not intentionally,” she says. “But people hurt each other all the time without meaning to. It doesn’t make it any easier when you’re the one who gets hurt.”

“You can’t hide from pain. I’ve tried.”

She turns onto the street that leads into Dad’s development. “At least it buys me some time.”

Dad’s Tahoe is parked out front.

Lex kills the engine, and rain bangs against the roof of the car. She leans over and hugs me. “Just take care of yourself, Frankie. I need my best friend.”

“Me too.”

I pull up the hood of my borrowed sweatshirt. The living room light glows in the apartment, and the drapes in front of the balcony doors slide open. I can’t see Dad through the rain, but I sense him watching me. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” Lex says as I jump out and run through the downpour.

By the time I make it to the stairs, I’m drenched. The second my key slides into the lock, Dad opens the door. I slip past him without a word and peel off the wet hoodie that weighs a ton now, along with my sneakers and socks.

“How did chemistry go?” he asks.

“Fine.” That’s all he’s getting from me.

“Can I see what you worked on?”

He’s so predictable.

“Why? Don’t you trust me, Dad?” I ask sarcastically.

He holds out his hand and I drop the binder on the table in front of him.

“I’ll be in my room. Just leave it on the kitchen table when you’re done.”

“Can you take a break from hating me for a few minutes? I’d like to talk.” He gestures at the chair across from him.

I take a seat. If he wants to talk, he can go first. He raps on the table a few times, then runs his hands over the stubble along his jawline. This is the Dad I’m used to—awkward and nervous around the daughter he barely knows.

“This isn’t how I wanted things to go between us.” He sighs. “I wasn’t happy about the reason you moved in, but I wanted you here. It felt like our chance to get to know each other and make up for lost time.”

“It’s called lost time for a reason. You can’t get it back once it’s gone. You want to get to know the old Frankie, not me.”

“You’re wrong. I know death affects people, and I warned your mom that Noah’s would change you. But your mother hears what she wants.”

I tried to tell her I wasn’t the same person, too. But Mom chalked it up to a temporary case of PTSD.

Dad watches me the way he always does—measuring my responses, noting my body language, judging. “I don’t care if you play the piano or go to Stanford. I want you to be yourself—the fearless little girl who drew on my bathroom walls with lipstick and wanted to help me catch bad guys. As you got older, that girl disappeared.”

The red lipstick smudges are still there. “Every kid likes to play cops and robbers. It had nothing to do with being fearless.”

He tries to make eye contact. “I disagree. I think it’s the reason you’re interested in a kid from the Downs. He takes chances, something you never used to do.”

I’m not with Marco because of some subconscious need to rebel. He hates the risks I take, just as much as my dad would if he knew about them.

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” I ask. “It’s pretty pointless, since I’m not seeing him anymore.”

Dad leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. Not the reaction he was hoping for, I guess. “I’m trying to protect you. Marco probably seems like a nice guy, and maybe he is. But he’s also a felon.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” I push my chair away from the table and stand. “I’m going to my room.”

“Someday you’ll realize I’m doing this because I love you,” Dad calls after me.

I’m raw—my frayed emotions ripped to shreds and tied back together in ugly knots. “Don’t use love as an excuse to hurt me. Find something else to call it. If you loved me, you’d never treat me like this.”

“That’s not true.” Dad stares at me, looking shell-shocked.

“Lots of things aren’t true, but it doesn’t stop people from believing them.”

* * *

I’m in my bedroom, thinking about Marco when my cell vibrates. I can’t stop myself from smiling when I read the text.

miss you angel

I run my fingers over the words, and my chest aches.

me 2

A bubble of tiny dots appears as he writes back.

feels like i’m still holding you. is

that crazy?

i wish

The bubble appears, and I wait for Marco’s text. When it doesn’t come through after a few minutes, I text again.

you still there?

yeah

My hand shakes as I type the next message. Now that I know how dangerous Marco’s life really is, it’s easy to imagine dozens of scenarios that would prevent him from responding.

what’s wrong?

His response comes more quickly this time.

feels too good to be real. like i’ll

wake up tomorrow & you’ll be gone

How can I tell him I feel the same way without making it worse?

i won’t. promise

till tomorrow

nite

I want to read the words over and over so I take a screenshot and e-mail it to myself before I delete the messages and the photo from my phone. Erasing Marco’s messages feels like I’m letting my father chip away at something precious that belongs to me. But Dad is more than just a nosy parent. He’s a cop.

A cop with the power to destroy Marco’s life.

The thought terrifies me, and I’m sick of being afraid.