The second the bell above the door sounded, Atticus’s mother glanced up. The color drained from her face and her eyes darted behind him, as if she was hoping Jada or someone else would be coming in with him.

“It’s just me,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

All the things he’d rehearsed the past couple of hours suddenly got jammed in his throat. Nothing seemed adequate enough to persuade her to look at the situation the way he hoped she would. “I’d just like to say—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped before he could get any further. “Now, get out.”

Tobias was tempted to do exactly that. What could he really accomplish here? She hadn’t softened at all in the five months he’d been back in Silver Springs. There was nothing he could say that would soften her heart now.

He turned, intending to walk out, but then he remembered the reason he’d come in the first place and pivoted back around to face her. “I’ll go in a second,” he said. “Once you’ve heard what I have to say.”

“You’re trespassing. I’ll call the police if you don’t get out of here. This is my business. I have the right to refuse service to anyone.”

“I’m not asking for service.” After clearing his throat, he dived into what he’d prepared. “Ms. Brooks, I understand how deeply you hate me. And I understand why. I’m not trying to talk you out of that or justify what I did. I deserve your hate, which is why I’ve never asked you to forgive me, and why I never will. But I do want to say—”

It was difficult to continue with the way she was glaring at him. The malevolence in those eyes stabbed him like a steel sword. But she hadn’t moved to call the police, so he took a deep breath and pressed on.

“How you’re treating Maddox and Jada isn’t fair. Maddox isn’t responsible for what happened to Atticus. I am. He just has the bad luck of being related to me. But if you’d only look at other aspects of who he is—the kind of principal he is at the school, the kind of husband he is to your daughter and the kind of father he is to Maya—I think you’ll have to agree that he’s not the monster you believe. Please don’t punish him for something he didn’t do and never dreamed would happen. And especially don’t punish Jada for loving him. All you’re doing is causing more pain and heartache.”

“You, of all people, don’t get to lecture me on pain,” she ground out.

“I’m not lecturing you. I’m pleading with you—for their sake.”