Jason was rolling away. Had to. Hurt, hurt, hurt. Trying so hard to escape from the agony. His side was on fire. He could feel his insides burn, which was funny, given the wet, wet blood.

Crashing, downstairs. The police trying to break into his home through a steel reinforced door.

Oops, he wanted to tell them. Too late.

He stumbled onto his knees, raised his head.

Maxwell was still on his ass. He was looking up at his daughter, who now had the handgun and was staring down at her father. Sandra’s arms were trembling violently. She had both hands wrapped around the pistol grip.

“Baby, it was self-defense. We’ll explain it to the police. He hurt you. I can see the bruises on your face. So you had to get away and I was trying to help you. We came back … for Ree. Yes, for Ree, except this time he had a gun and he went crazy on us and I shot him. I saved you.”

“Tell me why you killed her.”

“We’ll go home, baby. You, me, and little Clarissa. Back to the big white house with the wraparound porch. You always loved that porch. Clarissa will, too. We can set up a porch swing. She’ll be so happy there.”

“You murdered her, Daddy. You killed my mother and I watched you do it. Getting her drunk. Dragging her passed-out body to the car. Attaching the hose to the exhaust pipe, curling it around to the cracked window. Then starting the engine, before bolting out and locking the car doors behind you. I watched her wake up, Daddy. I stood in the doorway of the garage, seeing the look on her face when she realized that you were still standing right there, but that you had no intention of helping her.

“I remember her screams. For so long, I fell asleep smelling dying roses, and woke up hearing her goddamn pitiful wails. But you never broke. Never lifted a hand. Not as she tore off her own fingernails on the door latch or bloodied her knuckles against the front windshield. She screamed your name, Daddy. She screamed for you, and you stood there and watched her die.”

“Baby, listen to me. Put down the gun. Sandy, sugar plum, everything’s gonna be all right.”

But Sandy only tightened her grip on the weapon. “I want answers, Daddy. After all these years, I deserve the truth. Tell me. Look me in the eye and tell me: Did you kill Mama because she hurt me? Or did you kill her because I was finally old enough to serve as her replacement?”