Zach avoids his father’s eyes and picks up his sandwich.

“And you have important information,” Eric continues. “All I’m asking is that you share it.”

Lynell frowns, grabbing her fork. “I don’t know you either. All I know is you had me Registered and kidnapped because I’m your brother’s daughter.”

“Don’t you want to know your real family?”

“You don’t want me in your family. You want me dead.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

Lynell glances at Zach, who’s slowly chewing and staring at the table. “Why should I give you the letter?”

Eric shoves some lettuce in his mouth, studying Lynell while he chews. He swallows and grabs his water. “Because I’m the owner of the Registration and your uncle. Your last surviving relative, along with my son.” He claps Zach’s shoulder, who straightens and nods.

“I don’t know if I can trust you with the code.” She looks over to see Zach widen his eyes and give a small shake of his head. “I don’t even know what it does,” she adds, which makes Zach relax.

“Would it help if I told you?”

Zach looks incredulously at his father.

“Yes,” Lynell says.

Eric nods. “I’ll give you today and tomorrow. Show me I can trust you. See the family you could have. The family you’ve always wanted.” He pauses as if he could see the shock of yearning flash through Lynell’s body. “You really can choose us, Lynell. You don’t have to die this week.”

“But I have to give you the letter and denounce my claim,” she says.

Eric smiles and nods. “Give me the letter and denounce your claim.”

Lynell’s mother wasn’t around much in those last few years of her life. When she was, she was usually drunk or sleeping. But sometimes, she’d sit with Lynell in her locked bedroom in the hopes that Alan would leave them alone.

“Why are you married to him?” Lynell asked one night. She was fourteen and her mom had been married to Alan for almost nine years.

Elizabeth picked up a Scrabble piece and slid it across the board, finishing the word “GOAT” she’d created out of the “A” in “MAGIC.” “Uhm,” she said, leaning back on her ankles. They were sitting on the floor of Lynell’s room, the Scrabble board set up in front of them. Elizabeth rubbed her nose and pushed her lips to the side, sniffing.

“Mom . . .” Lynell said. “Why are we staying with him?”

“Honey, he wasn’t always bad. When we first met ten years ago, he—”

“It doesn’t matter, Mom,” Lynell interrupted. “He’s bad now. And you’re not . . . you’re not the same with him.”

Elizabeth looked down at the board. “It’s your turn.”

“Mom.”

“There’s a perfect ‘E’ here.” Elizabeth pointed to the bottom of the board but Lynell grabbed her hand, causing her mom to meet her gaze.

“Mom. Please.”

Elizabeth sighed, folding her other hand over Lynell’s. She let go and reached down, touching the top of the first word played, “LOVE.”