Maybe there are days when she’s there, just skirting the edges of my thoughts. But I don’t ever allow myself to focus on her. Not now. Not after all she’s done. Not since the Kid came home from his wayward journey in Idaho to see for himself what she’d become.

So, no.

I’m not expecting this.

There’s a little girl standing on the porch of the Green Monstrosity. And maybe I’m a little distracted, trying to half listen to Otter on the phone behind me, but there’s something about her, with her dark hair braided down the back of her head, loose little wisps hanging around her face. There’s a smudge of dirt on her nose. She’s got a backpack slung over her shoulder, her hand tight on the strap. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at me. She looks exhausted, and there’s something familiar about her that I can’t quite place.

“Can I help you?” I ask, trying not to show this little girl that I’m pretty much a fucking lunatic who is capable of impregnating a woman with a serial killer baby who could be born with a tail.

“Slow down, slow down,” Otter says into the phone. “Say that again, Megan.”

“Man,” the little girl on the porch says. “He sure wasn’t kidding. The color of this house is like an abomination against Mother Nature.”

A buzzing starts in my ears. “Who wasn’t kidding?”

She rolls her eyes, and I take a step back as if I’ve been shoved. I know that look. “Tyson,” she says. “You must be Bear. Derrick.”

“Wait,” Otter says. His voice sounds rough, like he’s having trouble speaking. “What?”

“How do you know my name?” I ask the girl, gripping the door tightly.

She fidgets on the porch. Looks away. Back at me, then away again. She opens her mouth, then closes it. She sniffs and grips the strap to her backpack even tighter. “Ty said if I ever needed help, I could find him here.”

“He’s on a trip,” I say dumbly. “He’ll be back this afternoon.”

“You’re shorter than I thought you’d be,” she says as if it’s nothing. “How disappointing to know that’s what I’ve got ahead of me.” She takes a deep breath. It comes out shaky.

“I don’t…,” Otter says, and he sounds so unsure that I want to go to him, but I can’t seem to make my feet move. “What do you mean hidden behind the other one?”