At the bottom of the hill I gunned it through the parking lot and took a squealing turn onto Milagro, only belatedly checking to make sure there wasn’t a cop car in range. I didn’t for a moment imagine the Boggart was hot on our tail, but I was shot through with adrenaline and couldn’t suppress the urge to flee. A block farther up on Milagro, I took my eyes off the road long enough to look at Pearl. “Why did you tear up the camp? What were you thinking?”

“They burned his books. They were using them as fuel—”

“So what? He’s dead. The books don’t mean anything to him. Who knows what they’ll do to get even with you.”

Pearl held up a hand. “Stop. I gotta get out.”

“Are you going to be sick?”

“No, I’m not going to be sick, you dumb shit. I need a smoke.”

Felix said, “Hey, me, too!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I snapped.

I searched for a stretch of curb that would allow me to ease out of the flow of traffic. In truth, I didn’t trust myself to drive at that moment. I was wired and needed time to compose myself. Milagro was a busy thoroughfare, and I felt distracted and out of sorts. I activated my left turn signal and took the side street that bordered the McDonald’s parking lot. The light had faded and the few trees on the grassy strip between the street and the sidewalk created a shadowy haven. I spotted a long gap between two parked vehicles and did a nifty job of parallel parking, which I notice is usually better done without too much thought.

I killed the engine and listened to the tick of hot metal while Pearl got out. Felix followed her out the passenger-side door. I emerged on my side and leaned against the door frame, legs extended behind me as though to loosen my hamstrings. I rested my cheek on my outstretched arms and waited for my heart to slow. Ten feet away, I could see Felix’s hands shake. Beads of sweat appeared on Pearl’s forehead in response to the unaccustomed physical exertion. Her eyes still watered from the capsicum and tears trickled down her cheeks. She sniffed and then leaned to one side and blew her nose through her fingers, which she wiped on her jeans. I don’t know why I expected anything more from her.

A quick look at my watch told me it was 7:10—too late to take them back to the shelter, which by now would be locked for the night. In theory, they would have been safe at Harbor House, but I knew it was the first place the Boggarts would check if they decided to retaliate.

Felix fumbled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.