At least I was honest. At least I communicated. But I may have also just lit the fuse on the ticking time bomb, and I don’t have a plan to run for cover. No plans whatsoever.

“I leave for six months, and this entire place just goes to hell?” Grandma says, her face pinched. “Six months! That’s all it took for the two of you to turn my life’s work upside down? Nude photos … vandalism? Police station?” Grandma says, throwing a hand in my direction. “And now Levi Summers is involved, the pillar of our community? His son is going to the Olympics. He wouldn’t have done this.”

Oh my God. Et tu, Grandma?

“He did it,” Evie confirms, Cleopatra-rimmed eyes on mine in solidarity.

Thank you, cuz.

“I was at the party with Josie when he flashed the picture around,” she continues. “He definitely is trashing our family name around town and spreading gossip, and I know because we’ve been seeing each other off and on for months.”

“Then he got mad at Lucky when he was drunk, and he broke the boatyard window with a crowbar,” I tell Grandma. “No one in town believes he did it, but he threatened Lucky, and I saw him drive past. He’s all but admitted it, and he doesn’t care because his dad owns this town.”

Evie concludes, “And I think the poster outside is revenge because I won’t sleep with him anymore. He’s an asshole. I just didn’t see it soon enough.”

“Hey, it happens,” Mom says.

My grandmother puts a hand over her heart. “What in the world … ? What is happening to you girls? Franny. Did you know about this?”

“It’s why I wanted to come home, Mom,” Aunt Franny admits. “I want to be with my daughter.”

“Well, bully for you.” Grandma looks around at all of us, stunned. “I can’t believe any of this. Everything was fine until we left.” She narrows her gaze at Mom. “Until you came back.”

Whoa. Hey now. Okay, wait. If anyone’s to blame here, it’s Adrian Summers. Did we not just explain? WHY DOES NO ONE UNDERSTAND THIS, FOR THE LOVE OF PETE?

Mom turns to me and a calmness sweeps over her features. “Shutterbug? I’m going to tape a piece of butcher paper over the door to cover up the poster. You go upstairs and pack. We need to find a motel before it gets too late.”

Everything inside my head empties at once.

Nothing but blank, empty space. Shiny and bright to match the empty cavern inside my chest. The only thing I feel is a strange buzzing all through my body—one that’s so loud, it drowns out the sounds of the shouting in the shop. I half-hear what’s being said, but I don’t really feel it.