An hour later, as I followed Trey out of the Simmons mansion and stepped over the threshold, I looked over my shoulder once more at the house’s first floor. I took in the oil portrait of Grandmother Simmons hanging over the grand staircase, the stodgy furniture in the living room, the flocked wallpaper and hardwood floors. We’d done a minimal job of cleaning up our indoor campsite, leaving folded blankets on the coffee table and pillows stacked on antique sofas. If everything we were about to attempt actually worked out, the next time I’d see this place, it might be within the last few minutes of my life.

A few feet ahead of me, Henry paused to wait for me as Trey and Violet climbed into the car. This was the moment when I needed to ask Henry to kill me when we returned to the house, but I lost my nerve when he smiled at me and said, “You could sit this part out, you know. We could go to the funeral and tell her she needs to meet with you here to make a deal.”

His thoughtfulness astounded me; he was always proposing ways to soften the burden on me, even if his suggestions weren’t realistic. But that struck me as equally problematic as it was endearing, considering what I needed him to do when we returned. “Henry,” I began, knowing that everything I was about to say put the entire plan’s chance at success in jeopardy. It might very well have been the equivalent of closing the lid on my own coffin now that I knew what was in Henry’s heart. But I couldn’t ask him to risk his life if there was a chance he was doing so with any expectations.

“Before we do this, I need you to understand that Trey and I… we’re…” I couldn’t find the right words to communicate that I’d made my decision, or more accurately, that there really had never been a decision to make—even though I cared so much about Henry that it was painful for me to make sure he understood the truth.

Henry shook his head and said, “It’s okay, McKenna. You don’t have to say it.”

“No, I do,” I insisted. “I hope you’re not doing this to prove anything—or to try to win my heart,” I said as gently as possible. “Because you already have it, in so many ways… just…”

“I get it,” Henry said gruffly. “And I want to be a part of this anyway, because I love you whether you love me back or not.”

Before I could reply, Henry descended the stairs and joined Violet and Trey in the car. I felt like I’d just been struck by lightning—unable to move and speechless, my mind completely blank except for the words Henry had just spoken.

Overhead, a crow cawed, pulling me back into reality. It was time to go. I reached for the door handle behind me and took one last look at the parlor. It was then that I thought of the gun Violet had put back in the top drawer of her father’s desk.