She opened her eyes, dropping her hands to her sides. She needed to get out of the house, get away from these poisonous people. She was no longer in prison, and she didn’t have to stay here. She made it three steps when she thought of the open window in Sam’s room. Casting a cautious glance toward the stairs, Juno slipped into Sam’s room again. Her eyes scanned his desk for some sign of what had been happening in his head before he escaped. His backpack was gone. She opened his dresser drawer; she knew he kept his money rolled and secured with a rubber band. Juno had mused over it the first time she’d seen it, the way he stashed his cash.

What if he’d overheard what Terry Russel had said to Winnie? Could he have left the house before Dakota arrived? Her breath vacuumed in as she considered the possibility that Sam had run away instead of running for help. His roll of money was gone from its spot. That’s when her heart really started hammering. Gone. She didn’t care what happened to Winnie, and she didn’t much care what happened to Terry Russel, either. Juno had chosen her side long ago. Sam was who mattered. Her feet started moving, shuffling at first and then running.

31

WINNIE

Once Winnie’s ankles were tied, Dakota firmly seated her on the floor and turned toward Terry. She stared at the back of his head, wondering where her brother had gone, and if someone could just…change overnight. But it hadn’t been overnight, though, had it? Dakota knelt in front of Terry, blocking Winnie’s view of her terrified face for a moment. They’d known that Dakota had problems, and Manda had been warning them for years about how serious they’d become, but the family hadn’t listened hard enough, had figured that Dakota was Manda’s problem now. When Dakota stood up, the floral scarf was slung over his palm and Terry was licking her lips, staring up at him like a cornered animal.

“Who is your grandson?” he asked her. His voice was rough, husky, like he’d just woken up from a nap. Winnie envisioned the first night he’d come to stay with them, how she’d found him sobbing like a baby on the couch. There was no trace of that man now.

She stopped struggling to listen.

Terry’s eyes didn’t waver when she said “Samuel.”

Winnie could feel the sweat gathering between her breasts and on her forehead. Dakota gave a loud smack of his lips, before casting a glance over his shoulder at her. Winnie didn’t like what she saw in his eyes—or maybe it was what she didn’t see that frightened her, the absence of her brother.

“Samuel…?” he repeated. He said it with a slight sneer, like Terry might be the craziest person in the room.