My small family hasn’t spent this much time together since Mom left. Since voices appeared in Dad’s head and asked him to keep me at a distance.

Now that I know the truth, now that we suspect that closeness—rather than coldness—might be the answer, we’re trying, both Dad and I. You don’t erase six years of remoteness in a single conversation, however. But with each squeeze of the shoulder, each shared bark of laughter, we’re getting there, bit by bit. Day by day.

Sometimes Zeke joins us for a board game or two. Archie eyed him suspiciously the first couple of times, but he’s slowly relaxed as Zeke continued acting the same way he always has. They never talk about their research, though. I have a feeling that part of their friendship is over.

And yet, I appreciate Zeke’s steady presence. His solid kindness. He’s dating Kadijah now, and I laugh when he tells me about their antics. Smile when he says her name, his features soft.

He doesn’t appear to have been visited by a voice—at least not yet—but the jury’s still out on Lee. The school bully just appeared at the wrong place too many times. And if his nastiness is a result of a mission, rather than a defect in personality? I suppose we’ll find out, sooner or later.

I incline my head toward a stuffed bear that’s the length of my torso, the newest addition to Archie’s bedroom. “Another present?”

“Nah. This one’s for you. I ordered it online.” Archie passes me the stuffed animal. It has an oversize head and a cream-colored belly and reminds me of a bear he used to have.

“His name is Fu Fu,” the six-year-old Archie had said authoritatively.

I, being a lowly kindergartener, was terribly impressed. “How’d you come up with that name?”

My brother shrugged loftily. “Made it up.”

It wasn’t until I graduated into the first grade that I realized he had lifted the name straight out of a classroom book.

I smile, about to remind Archie of the story, when he gestures toward the plush toy. “I picked this one because it has a pouch in the back.”

Sure enough, I flip the bear over, and a zipper runs from its neck to its bottom.

“Look inside,” Archie instructs.

Lifting my brows, I slide down the zipper and pull out a plastic bag.

The baggie holds a gun, one that looks very much like the one he pointed at Bandit and me. Like the one I eventually used to shoot him.

I drop the bag, and the gun bounces harmlessly on the mattress. The last time I saw this weapon, it was buried under some old blankets in Cristela’s trunk. I can’t believe I forgot to get rid of it.

An ocean roars in my ears. “Why…why are you giving this to me?”