“I’m sorry, I wasn’t—”

“I don’t go through your stuff!” she continued, voice rising. “I don’t go snooping around your room, opening your drawers or rifling through your bag.”

“Are you taking it to school? You said you weren’t going to take it to school. Come on, Elise, don’t be stupid. If they catch you—”

She just sat there fuming, but I was too scared for her to hold back.

“Tell me you don’t carry it to school.” I was begging, begging her to be reasonable.

“Of course not,” she snapped.

“Why do you have it on you now?” I said. Now, when we’re going to your father’s house. Now, after you said you were going to give him one bad night. What was she planning? I felt sick.

“For self-defense! God, Remy, what else? You think I’m going to drive up there and murder my father?” she said with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I—”

“After that night, don’t you think I have the right to protect myself? Just because I’m not planning to use it doesn’t mean I won’t need it,” she said, voice dropping back to neutral. She sounded so reasonable, so rational, almost emotionless, like this was just a simple math problem—potential run-in with her father plus his violent history equals gun. “It’s for emergencies.”

I didn’t respond. What could I even say? More than that, I felt like I’d lost the right to say anything at all. Though she never said it, I couldn’t help hearing the accusation in her voice. It’s for emergencies—because you didn’t come when I called.

We remained quiet, letting the silence do all the speaking. What had started as a simple mission to prank her father was beginning to turn into something else entirely. I just didn’t know what yet.

• • •

“The second film is my favorite,” Elise said after pulling off at one of the exits for Chattanooga. Her tone was conversational but I could tell she had more to say.

“Why? Because she finally kills him?” I rolled with the change in subject although it confused me. The sinking feeling in my stomach grew with each mile as we drew closer to our final destination. Elise’s father was a monster, and we were driving straight into the beast’s den.

“Yeah, but it’s not that she finally kills him, it’s that she finally gets to confront him,” she explained. “It’s more than the act of killing him. By the very end, it almost doesn’t matter whether he dies or not—I mean, okay it does matter—but it’s not the ultimate payoff. It wouldn’t be a very satisfying story if she showed up, killed him in two minutes, found her kid, and left.” She looked at me, raising an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

“I guess.” The streets became more residential. We were almost there. With the top down, the wind in our hair, we had all the air in the world, but I couldn’t breathe.

“But in real life, we pretty much never get that kind of resolution.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m never going to get an apology and—”