Through the blank star-strewn world I ran, the campfire in the distance, the monster after me. Always, the monster after me. But he was slow. The campfire had long disappeared into the black, and the stars above me had grown brighter, stranger. I knew daylight should be coming, but daylight would never come. There was only the chase, only the monster and me. I could hear him suck breath through his nose, the strangled sound his throat made, the clomp of his feet on the ground. He was misshapen, he staggered when he moved, he ran with a kind of loping lurch. It was horrifying, I was disgusted by him, I was disgusted by the eyeless gray face every time I looked over my shoulder.

I knew he would never stop running, he would never quit.

But I also knew that I could run faster.

Chapter 26

The next day Grandma led me through the fields again. The Hummingbird Grove was alive with movement, bright blossoms blooming midair only to flitter away from one feeder to the next. The sun cast a haze through the trees, a sort of glow that made everything dreamy and unreal. Wildflowers unleashed themselves in gashes of yellow across the green. The place seemed suffused with life, a garden where only miracles could grow. Grandma and I sat down in supplication, but before we could begin, I asked her a question.

“Grandma, did you have a son?” I said.

The smile fell right off her face.

“Why ask a question when you already know the answer?” she snapped. I started to apologize, but she hushed me. “It’s okay. I know y’all followed me. Well, I didn’t know it at the time, but I figured it out later. Quite a thing, spying on an old woman in her grief like that. It’s a personal moment, standing over the grave of your child. You don’t know that kind of pain. You couldn’t possibly.”

“I’m . . . I’m sorry,” I said. “We didn’t mean to break your trust. With all you’ve done for us, taking us in like this, protecting us from Horace. It wasn’t right, and I’m sorry.”

Grandma sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow. She looked back at me with eyes gray and sad and wore-out.

“No, Lee. It’s my fault for not telling you the truth, mine and your mother’s. She never told you about Jeremiah? Not even a hint?”

I shook my head. “Not a word.”

“Well, that just about breaks my heart,” she said. “Figures, though. It’s not an easy thing to talk about, losing a brother like that. Especially one as close as they were. I should know. I lost my sister when I was just a girl. Never quite got over it, even now.”

“Just seems weird that she wouldn’t have mentioned him.”