I make my way toward the old house, step by reluctant step, pushing through the tall weeds, circling around the tangled thickets that are too dense for me to negotiate. I know why I’m dragging my heels. I want to get this over with, sure, but I don’t know that it’s actually going to happen—at least, not in a way that will make things any better for me. But hope springs eternal and all that, and whatever else I might be, I’m so not Quitter Girl, though right now I’m certainly Pokey Girl.

It’s hot in this field, but not like it was back on the mesa where I left the others. The air’s humid and close here. It makes my hair frizz and my skin feel damp and sticky under my clothes—in other words, typical Tyson County summer weather, which is pretty much my least favourite. But why should the weather be any more pleasant than anything else here? This whole place seems to have been designed to make me as miserable as possible, and so far—between the last visit and this one—it’s been doing a pretty good job.

But at least no one else has to suffer this time. There’ll be no mouthless Lizzie, no Geordie getting killed. No chance of Honey getting shot. Nobody else will get hurt because it’s only me in here and either I finish this, or I stay here. Either way, Del won’t be able to hurt anyone else again.

Okay, so that’s all it’s got going for it, and everything else is just a horror show, but it’s enough. And who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe I’ll figure out how to circumvent this hold Del’s got over me. Maybe I’ll actually beat him, instead of just running away like I did when I was a kid.

But I don’t know where to start.

I will not let anyone have power over me, Honey told me.

I know exactly what she means. Ever since I got off the street, I haven’t backed away from either a problem or a bully. It didn’t matter if I was in the hot chair, or if it was somebody else—I stood up and dealt. I made the same vow Honey holds to, and I’ve stayed true to it.