His heart skipped a beat. He turned and saw Mr. Young standing twenty feet away, at the top of the path that came down to his reading spot. Ricky didn’t know whether he should run away, but he sat there, a mix of emotions hitting him that he couldn’t quite sort out.

Fear.

Sorrow.

Joy.

Homesickness.

“Mr. Young.” He barely got the words out.

“Javi told me you were here. We need to talk.”

Ricky shook his head, but he didn’t move.

Mr. Young came down the path and sat next to him on the bench. “It’s nice here.”

It was Ricky’s favorite place. A creek ran through it—sometimes, it ran high and came all the way up to the bench that Javi had made. Sometimes, it barely ran at all. Trees provided shade, even on the hottest days.

“A lot has happened these last couple of days, Ricky. Yesterday, Ginny told us the truth. She kept your secret for three years.”

Ricky wanted to know what happened, but he was scared it would be very bad news.

So he remained silent. He didn’t want to know.

But Mr. Young continued talking.

“The FBI is in charge of your parents’ case now. I don’t know how to talk to you about this. I know you’ve been through hell, kid. So, I’m just going to tell you straight out. You know that your parents and sisters were murdered, that’s why you ran.”

Ricky closed his eyes. His chest got all tight and he didn’t want to remember.

“Their bodies were identified through DNA. Your grandparents now know that they are dead, but they also believe that you are alive. That you called them every Christmas, remained silent. Ginny told us that you saw one of the men who killed your parents and that he was a policeman. He came to my house and you thought he was going to hurt us, so you ran. I don’t blame you, Ricky. No one blames you for being scared. You were nine years old. But I need you to come home with me. No one knows that you were in the house that day, that you saw and heard what you did. I brought an FBI agent with me. You can trust him.”

Ricky jumped up. “No. No! They’ll kill me. They said they would kill me. And no one will believe me.”

“I believe you.”

“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Please don’t make me go.”

“Ricky, I’m not going to make you do anything.”

Ricky didn’t believe him. He was a kid, Mr. Young was an adult. His bottom lip quivered, but he would not cry.

“It has to be your choice to leave. You feel safe here, and Javi has protected you.”

“Javi’s my family now.”