The shock wore off and Ash knew she had to act. She broke free and raced across the street. “Stop. Fucking stop it,” she shouted at them.

As if on cue, they all whirled around, eyes widened in disbelief. Vic took a menacing step forward. “Stay out of it, Ash,” he barked. A terrified Eli used this distraction as his opportunity to attempt an escape, crawling toward Ash, blood streaming down his face, staining his gray T-shirt.

“Help me. Please,” he begged. Ash saw it then—that familiar look of betrayal, and she was transported back to her childhood, cowering in her room, her mother wielding a belt. No mercy. No escape. People knew what Faye was doing to her. The bruises, the cuts. Neighbors, teachers, the church ladies. No one intervened. No one said a word. They’d all turned their backs on her. Ash couldn’t do that to Eli.

“Stop! Get away from him,” she said again, this time with more force. It was useless. Vic grabbed Eli by the hair and he was swallowed up by the mob. They unleashed more punches and kicks as Eli curled into himself.

Helpless, Ash spun around to see Nate and Leslie looking on in silence. They were in shock. That was the only explanation. Ash grabbed Nate’s arm and shook him. “You have to make them stop.” He stayed completely still. Leslie blinked furiously as though she couldn’t believe what was unfolding, but she did nothing.

The old Ash would’ve stayed out of this—no, the old Ash would have run away and never looked back. Running was what she did best, but things had changed. Ash had changed.

She took a few steps forward, ready to throw herself into the fight. A second later, she felt Nate’s arms around her as he lifted her off the ground. “We have to go. Now,” Nate said, each word punctuated. Ash struggled against him, but it was futile. Nate had at least three inches and thirty pounds on her.

“We can’t just leave him,” Ash screamed.

Nate tightened his grip, silently half dragging, half carrying Ash away. She caught a glimpse of Mo. Her arms were crossed.

“Mo, you can end this,” Ash yelled. They’d listen to Mo. They always listened to her. She was their leader. The guru of the streets.

Everything was happening so quickly, but Ash could have sworn she saw a smile on Mo’s face. It was as if she was actually enjoying this.

“Nate, goddamn it, let me go,” Ash shouted, struggling against him. He didn’t stop, carrying her farther and farther away from the brawl. There were dozens of people camped out on the street, men and women in dirty clothes, and tents and sleeping bags, but no one paid them any attention. It was as though Ash were completely invisible, her distress unremarkable in this vast sea of despair.

Nate carried her another two blocks before stopping in a vacant alley. His breathing labored, he finally set her down. “We’re good, Ash. We’re okay,” Nate insisted over and over, his arms still wrapped around her.