Richard fired the gun. Everybody—even Monica—screamed, and Claire looked down at herself in shock.

He’d missed. There was a smoking round hole in Michael’s door.

Oh. He hadn’t missed.

“Kid,” Richard said wearily, “I am not in the mood. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours, my sister’s crazy—”

“Hey!” Monica protested.

“—and you’re not my high school crush—”

“He is not my high school crush, Richard!”

“The point is, I couldn’t give a crap about you, your friends, or your problems, because for me this isn’t personal. Monica will kill you because she’s nuts. I’ll kill you because you make me kill you. Are we straight?”

“Well,” Shane said, “that’s kind of a personal question.”

Richard aimed directly at Claire. It wasn’t much of a change, but she definitely felt it, like being in the center of the spotlight instead of just on the edges, and she heard Shane say, “Dude, I’m kidding, all right? Kidding!”

She didn’t dare blink, or move her eyes away from the gun. If she could just keep staring at it, somehow, that would keep him from shooting her. She knew that didn’t make sense, but…

In her side vision she saw Shane reach behind his back and pull out a book. Black leather cover. Oh no. He’s really going to…he can’t. Not after all this. Although she didn’t have any answers for how he was supposed to avoid it, either.

Shane held up his left hand, showing it empty, and held out the black Bible with his right.

“That’s it?” Richard asked.

“Swear to God.”

“Monica. Take it.”

She did, scowling at Shane. “You are not my high school crush, idiot.”

“Great. I can die happy, then.”

“I’m shooting the next person who talks who isn’t my sister,” Richard said. “Monica?”

She opened the Bible. “There’s a hole in it. And another book.” She stopped, staring at the inside. “Oh my God. It really is. I thought for sure she was bullshitting us.”

“She knows better. Let me see.”

Monica tilted the open Bible toward him, and Claire’s last faint hope went away, because yes, that was the cover, with its scratchy home-engraved symbol.

Shane had done it. He’d given it up.

Somehow she’d expected better.

“So. We’re square, right?” Shane asked tensely. “No shooting or anything.”

Richard reached out, took the Bible from Monica, and flipped it close to tuck it under one arm. “No shooting,” he agreed. “I meant what I said. I’ll only kill you if you make me. So thanks, I really didn’t need the paperwork.”

He walked past Shane to the stairs, and started down.

“Hey, wait!” Shane said. “Want to take your psycho sister with you?”

Richard stopped and sighed. “Right. Monica? Let’s go.”