I sink into the chair. “Believe me, you don’t want me to talk about this with you.”

“But I do.”

I shake my head. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

“Try me.”

The eruption happens. The angry hot lava pours out of me. I jump up from the chair. My whole body is shaking. “I saw him. I saw him open my dad’s safe. I knew that he knew where the guns were. And I saw—” I pause, but not because I’m Freezing Up.

No.

This time I pause because I want to get my words just right. I want them to sting.

I want them to burn.

“I saw in his eyes that something bad was going to happen. And you know what I did?” I don’t wait for her to answer. “I didn’t do a thing. Not a single thing. I—”

The lava is cooling inside me. It’s turning into something much more dangerous. Big, fat salty tears. I turn away from Mrs. Euclid. I can’t let her see me cry.

“Oh, Quinn,” Mrs. Euclid says quietly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Her eyes well up. She stares at me, but she doesn’t look like she’s seeing a monster. I only see sympathy on her face. Sympathy that I don’t deserve.

“Did you not hear what I said?” My voice is trembling. I’m struggling to hold on to my hot anger. “I saw him. I—I—I knew.”

“I need you to listen to me, Quinn. And I mean really listen. What your brother did was not your fault. That responsibility isn’t yours. I know you feel like you should’ve told someone, and probably you should’ve, but that doesn’t mean that what happened is your fault. That’s a burden that is not yours to bear. And it’s much too heavy for you to be carrying around. Have you talked to your parents about this?”

I shake my head.

“Can I give you a hug?”

I surprise myself by nodding. Mrs. Euclid wraps me up in a tight embrace. A single tear slides down my cheek. I vacuum it up as fast as I can.

“It’s not your fault, Quinn. Do you hear me? But I really think you need to talk to your parents.”

“I ca-can’t. They’ll be mad. And they’ll tell me I can’t tell anyone because . . .”

Mrs. Euclid doesn’t rush me. She keeps me in the hug. It makes me feel safer than I’ve felt in a really long time.

“Because,” I say again once I find my words, “Cora and I, the two of us are trying to fix things. But I don’t know if it’s going to work because I haven’t told Cora the truth . . .”

Mrs. Euclid pulls away from me so she can look me in the eyes. “Fix things? Quinn, I need you to listen to me again. None of what happened is your responsibility to fix it. It’s my responsibility.” She thumbs at her chest. “And it’s the responsibility of other adults. We’ve created a world that is unsafe for you kids. And it’s our job to stand up and figure out how to protect you.”