Diane frowned. “I guess I understand a mother’s need to be in her child’s life, but she put you through a lot. You do what you think is right, baby.” She leaned forward. “I never had kids of my own, but you know I love my foster kids. And you will always have a place in this family if you want it, no matter where you go from here.”

“Thanks, Diane,” I said, blinking back tears. “Hey. Have you, um, seen anybody unusual hanging out in the neighborhood?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Is someone threatening you?”

“Nothing too bad. And I’m not getting into any trouble,” I said quickly, trying to walk the fine line between raising her alertness and sending her into full-on freak-out mode. “But if you … if you see anyone, let me know, okay?”

“Mm-mm-mm.” She shook her head. “You know we’re a tight neighborhood around here. Nobody’s mentioned anything, but I’ll ask around and tell folks to keep a lookout. You never can be too careful these days. Especially with all that craziness up in Providence.”

“Yeah.” I sat down at the table and dished rice onto our plates. “Exactly.”

I ate a few pounds of Chinese food while Diane told me about the latest drama down at the lockup, and the whole time I stared at her, wondering what my life would have been like if she were my real mom, if I’d had her to protect me all along. It was pointless to ponder, but I couldn’t help but think it might have been kind of nice, even now, to let her be that person for me. So many things were like that since I’d returned to the land of the living—my weird friendship with Tegan and going out with Ian, a normal guy who actually seemed to like me—real connections that were nothing more than could-have-beens, because I wasn’t here to have a life. I was here to be a Guard.

After such a heavy meal—and maybe some of Raphael’s help—Diane fell asleep early, and I crept out of the house after checking to make sure that every single window and door in the split-level was locked. I walked around the neighborhood, trying to detect the scent of incense or anything unusual. Nothing. I drove to the Guard house and waded through ankle-deep puddles to get to the front steps. Jim and Henry were waiting for me in the entryway.

Even though it was his night off, I looked around for Malachi. We had parted ways in silence this afternoon. Every topic of conversation was too painful, and he’d been more withdrawn than ever.

“He’s not here,” said Jim. “Laney picked him up a few minutes ago.”