I head upstairs, ushering Corinne and leaving her door open. Grateful that her room is on the backside of the house. Corinne doesn’t speak; she goes silent, gripping one of her dolls. My adrenaline still up from the window blasting, but also at what this is doing to Corinne. She’s become numb to our nights evolving into terrifying disturbances. I worry about what this will do to her long-term.

“It’s gonna be all right.” I push her hair back.

Corinne nods. I look away, so she doesn’t know I’m afraid. I turn on her sleep noisemaker to drown the outside. Then leave.

On the porch, Mrs. Evans has a blanket wrapped around her, crying out that everyone needs to be careful. She’s shaking like they came for her, not us.

“You hurt? Any glass get you?” Mama tugs at my chin, checking my face. “How’s Corinne?”

“Shocked. This is too much for her, Mama.”

Mama nods. “Stay out here with them while I call the fire department. I’ll go check on her.”

Mr. Evans, Dean, and I stand behind the fiery cross, watching Steve hose it down. Our shadows elongating in the dark, hot night of Texas as the flames extinguish.

“See anyone?” I ask.

“They were gone by the time I got around,” Dean says.

“Where were the police?” I point down the street where they were parked for two weeks until now. “Is this what you meant when you said it was going to get ugly?”

Dean touches my back, shaking his head.

“I’m from Mississippi,” Steve says. “I’ve seen this before, but I didn’t expect it here. There’s definitely something bigger going on.”

My throat closes. I haven’t heard from Jamal in two days.

“What do we do?” I take a step closer to Steve.

“It means we’ve got more work to do. This something that happens around here often, Mr. Evans?”

Mr. Evans doesn’t answer right away. He watches the cross, then glances over at Mrs. Evans. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as me. If Mrs. Evans considers this a part of stirring up trouble, or if it makes her realize that trouble was already here and we’re just trying to survive.

“Klan was here.” Mr. Evans hesitates. Like he wants me and Dean to leave so he can talk to Steve.

I’m not going anywhere.

“All this land from here to the Pike was seized twenty years ago by the FBI in a big bust. White supremacists had bought property and businesses so they could launder money in and out without the government knowing. Some lost property, money, and some went to jail.”

“Wait,” I say. “Daddy and Mr. Davidson were planning to build homes on land that had been owned by the Klan? Does my mama know?”