The smaller boys cheered, racing off to get their supplies. Flynn eyed her a minute, a soft smile on his face, like he knew what she was doing. It didn’t take long for everyone to settle into the living room, Jack laying her sleeping bag next to the fire so she could stoke it every few minutes. Conner and Dylan huddled up beside her. Diego got the couch because everyone was feeling generous with their bellies full and their eyes drooping, and Flynn curled up on the floor beneath him.

The fire crackled softly, filling the room with warmth. The boys chattered for a while, and then their voices grew fainter. Eyelids fluttered. Breathing steadied. By the time Jack slipped out of her sleeping bag, Diego’s arm had fallen over the edge of the sofa, and Flynn’s fingers had entwined with his.

Jack’s stomach tightened at the sight of it. She thought she would do anything to protect them. Then, remembering where such convictions led, she crept toward her bedroom, climbed over the windowsill and disappeared into the darkness.

6 Like Mother, Like Daughter

Lily crept away from Jack’s peeling green cottage, trying desperately to understand what she’d just witnessed. Jack, burning clothes in a fireplace. Suits and T-shirts and jeans. When Lily had learned that Raven’s clothes had been stolen, of course she’d assumed her mother was responsible for it, but now she realized her mother was innocent of that one small crime.

Jack, on the other hand, appeared to be guilty. But of what? Had she simply taken Raven’s clothes, or had she done something unspeakable while wearing them? Lily wanted to demand answers the second Jack arrived at her mother’s office, but she needed to play this carefully. Protect herself. Trick Jack into trusting her. That was the only way to get to the truth of what had happened the night her mother was murdered.

Lily knew some of it, of course she did. But she didn’t know the whole story. That she would have to earn. And so she jogged up to Jack, running a hand through her pale blond hair. “You came. I thought you might change your mind.”

Jack shook her head, looking apprehensive. There was a smudge of black on her thumb, from the ash in the fireplace, but she didn’t seem to notice it. She was shaky, which meant she was nervous.

Or she was hungry.

“I brought snacks,” Lily said, pulling a breakfast bar out of her pale pink purse. She’d watched Jack kneel beside the fire, feeding Raven’s clothes to the flames, but she’d also watched her hand over a freshly made sandwich to her little brothers. “In case we’re here a while.”