I check the tag inside where we each wrote our names in our bags, and sure enough mine’s there. Where did the notebook come from? I flip it open. The page is blank. Every page is blank, as they’ve always been. But for some reason my parents kept it close to them, and I woke up more than once to find one of them bent over it in the light of a lamp.

Tossing the journal into the bag, I pull my mother’s necklace from my pocket. The same trinity knot made of silver dangles from the black rope, a tiny emerald in the center. I’d taken it from her bedside nightstand before leaving the motel.

That morning, Liam and I had answered a local ad for a dog walker, even though we were never supposed to go out alone. But our parents had looked so exhausted, and I’d wanted to do something to help, so I’d convinced Liam to go with me. At eighteen, he was already sneaking out at night, though I never told him I knew, never asked why he came home with bruises and raw knuckles.

When we got back, we found our dad tied to a chair with two men standing over him. Mom was on the ground.

They killed him the second we walked in.

Now we’re running again, and I don’t even know why, not really. It’s just another question I’ll never get the chance to ask them. They’re gone, and all their plans, all their answers, are gone with them.

For one long, guilty moment, I let myself be upset about that. Their silence. Their secrets. If they’d told me the truth, I wouldn’t be where I am now, sitting in an inn owned by supposed psychics. I wouldn’t be thinking about how I’ll never hear my father sing while folding laundry again or come outside to find my mom bent over the old Charger, grease streaks in her red hair.

In that moment, I imagine how it’d feel to scream until my throat goes hoarse.

Then I shove it deep down where it can’t distract me. I need to be strong if I’m going to get answers. And I will get them, one way or another.

I just hope I don’t have to do it alone. Where’s Liam? Before he took off after the men, he promised he’d be here, and he never breaks his promises.

I zip the duffel bag closed and put my mom’s necklace on. At least I can wait for Liam downstairs so that I know the second he’s here.

Picking up my jacket, I open the door and walk outside—and straight into Anna.

My hand brushes hers and she trips backward. Before she hits the ground, a chair skids over from the nearby corner and catches her. I gape at it.