A branch snaps from outside the window, and I slide down onto the carpet beside her, brushing her blonde hair away from her face. Strands are matted with dark red goo, sticking to her cheek. She still wears the red lipstick she wore every day, bruises on her cheek fading from last week. Overall, she didn’t deserve the shit she put up with. She was a good woman.

“I’m sorry.” Tears build in my throat but never roll. I stand back to my feet, running my hand through my hair. I’m seventeen and about to be thrown down a spiral life.

My eyes rest on him. I see nothing when I look back through him. I step over my mother, the blood-sodden carpet smushing as I get closer to Jared. The bullet hole weeps with blood and snotty brain matter. “Fuck you. I’m wicked enough.”

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here. It may have been hours. Days. Minutes. I watch as the flames in the open fire turn to burning hot coals. Until the air gets cold enough to snake up my spine.

There’s a knock on the door.

I ignore it. They’ll go away.

They knock again. “Police! Open up!”

Tossing the gun into the middle of the room, I push myself up from the sofa and take the steps to the front door. I squeeze the handle and open it to two officers and a man hanging back dressed in a suit. He wears a long trench coat and has a cigar hanging out his mouth like he just walked off the set of some mafia movie.

I stare back at them. “They’re in the lounge.” Widening the door to allow them in, I slide down the wall near the hallway table, drawing my knees up to my chest. I don’t know what they’re doing in the other room, but I know I’m going to jail. I know that what I thought would happen, obviously hasn’t, and that everything has turned to shit.

The man in the suit kneels down beside me. “Son, there were reports of gunshots. I was in the area, so I thought I’d tag along. You want to tell me what happened here tonight?” Has Poppy come down and I haven’t known?

Shit. Poppy.

“He killed her, so I killed him. Simple.” I stare at the family portrait hanging on the wall. “I came down to see he had already killed her. He didn’t think I could do it.” I shrug. “So I did.”

The smell of Cuban smoke wraps around me, and I shuffle to the side to watch him. He doesn’t look familiar.

“You can take me to jail, but can you please make sure Poppy goes to a good home?”