Have I finally broken like Dad did? Are they deciding whether to fix me or let me fall apart? Then they smother me in a four-armed hug with me wrapped in the middle.

Eventually, when today’s tears have run dry and my stomach aches, Hanna says, “We’re here,” and Emily squeezes me every chance she gets.

But I’m focusing on something else. He tricked a lot of people; that’s what Hanna said. He taught for years, and he tutored fifth graders, so what if Clara knew? What if that was what she was too scared to tell me?

If she saw something, she could be the witness who ensures he’s locked up forever.

Chapter 129

I stand at the bus stop, trying to ignore the reporters throwing questions at me and the photographers sticking their lenses in my face. Only Sara stands back, but she can’t stop the others from harassing me for a comment. They want to know how I feel, like it’s that easy.

I feel all over the place. I feel confused and angry and scared, because catching him and locking him up forever are not the same thing.

“Hey!” someone shouts again, and Jamie barges his way through the crowd, stands in front of me, and says, “Fuck off!”

The reporters don’t move. Some ask him questions, and others act like he’s not there. But when he starts swinging at them, kicking out at anyone close, they step back until they’re on the opposite side of the road.

“Thanks,” I say.

Jamie shrugs. “Don’t mention it.” He stands with me until the bus comes, then gets on and says, “Where are we going?”

“Clara’s house. She knew it was Mr. Collins before I did. I think she has the evidence that can end this for good.”

Chapter 130

The driveway is empty, and a quick look through Clara’s patio doors seems to say no one is inside. I knew she’d be at school, but I hoped one of her parents might be home.

If I can explain—if they realize how important Clara is to convicting Mr. Collins—they could bring her home early. But I’ll wait all day if I have to.

Clara didn’t want to speak to me last time, but she must know we’ve caught him now. She doesn’t need to be scared anymore.

I move to the front of the house and stare into the living room, but all I can make out is a TV and a fireplace and some photo frames, and that’s when I see it, only it can’t be. I jump back, then hold my hands against the glass and peer inside.

“What the fuck?”

“What is it?” Jamie asks, and I pull him around the side of the house.

“I need to get in.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Have you ever broken into somewhere before?”