Ignoring Jude, Cady opened the driver’s-side door, and I took that as permission to open mine. Silver, determined to get the lay of the land, exited first. I tried not to notice the stiffness with which my aging companion jumped out of the car. It was ten or fifteen seconds before she turned back to me.

All safe, I could almost hear my self-appointed protector saying. Kira get out of car now.

I obliged. The second my shoes hit dirt, the tension that had been building inside me snapped like a rubber band. I closed my eyes and lifted my face toward the sky and listened. Birds. Running water, somewhere nearby.

I heard Jude let Saskia and Pad out of the back, and without turning toward them, I tracked their movements. Saskia stalked; Pad was more of a prancer, like a horse trained in dressage.

Another sound broke through. My eyes snapped open as I angled my body toward the source. Human. A boy—eighteen or nineteen, dark hair, dark eyes, brown skin that glistened with a layer of sweat—drilled a soccer ball into the side of the house.

Again.

And again.

Maybe he was dangerous. Maybe he wasn’t. When it came to strangers, my brain was wired to err on the side of caution.

Almost as if on cue, the stranger in question turned to look at us. Without missing a beat, he pounded the ball into the wall so hard that it rebounded over his head and into the woods.

I felt my nostrils flare but kept my lips pressed firmly together.

“I believe that is the traditional salutation of the Hunter’s Point soccer enthusiast,” Jude said, ambling to my side. Pad took up position just in front of us.

“Just curious,” I said to Jude under my breath. “Are you two protecting me from the stranger or the stranger from me?”

Jude remained suspiciously silent.

“Hello,” Cady called out.

As the boy began to make his way toward us, the tips of his fingers curled inward, a prelude to working themselves into fists, but his arms stayed dangling by his sides.

“Him from you,” Jude murmured as he took in the expression on my face. “We’re definitely protecting him from you.”

Pad went out to greet the stranger.

“Hello,” Cady repeated. “I’m—”

“You’re the daughter.” The boy bent to scratch Pad behind the ears, then rose again. “I’m supposed to be on my best behavior, so I suppose I should welcome you home.”

I felt, as much as saw, him cross the invisible threshold that put him within two arm’s lengths of my family. Saskia took a single, threatening step toward him.

“Easy, Sass,” I murmured. I followed my own advice, right up until the boy bared his teeth at Cady in a smile that didn’t strike me as friendly in the least.