Lena was in Texas. Michael was in so much danger that they’d switched his secret apartment. Elizabeth was getting threats. Lena could cross the border into Mexico, Brady would keep lying about Michael’s involvement, and our home would never be safe again.

Lena was here. Grace was in danger. My parents—I’d brought a killer right to them. Lena wasn’t going to forget where they lived. They would never be safe, not while she was out there. Molly would come back from her tour, my parents would return to gardening and fishing, and then one day …

I couldn’t even think about it, but it was the only thought in my mind. Their house empty. Their bodies gone. Their blood on my hands.

Surreptitiously, I looked down at Aimee’s social media feeds, still open on my phone. There was an event at the museum, an annual benefit for education and the arts where every local celebrity, from restaurateurs to fashionistas to politicians, would be in attendance. Not only wasn’t Aimee worried about the warning I’d given her, she didn’t even care that I could stalk her. She hadn’t blocked me or hidden her post or anything. She wasn’t scared at all, not like me.

I was holding the phone in my hand when it buzzed with a text from a number marked Unknown: Hey girl, what’s taking you so long? Get your ass over here.

The sound of the television faded away. All I could hear was my own breath roaring in my ears. The tone of the text, it sounded like …

I watched my shaking fingers type Who is this?

My mother touched my arm and asked, “What’s wrong?” Her words were garbled and warped as if I were underwater. Lena was in Texas. That’s where the police were looking for her. We were safe here; we had to be.

I shook off my mom’s hand, gripping the phone until the next text appeared: Come find me … or I’ll come get you. Who do you know in Hawthorne? One of your sisters?

My dad was standing now.

“We have to go.” I was on my feet, dizzy with adrenaline. “She knows. Lena knows we’re here.”

My mom stood, her magazine falling to the floor. “Where are the police?”

Another text: Not the one with kids. She’s in Cherry Hill …

“I’ll call them.” My dad already had his phone in his hand. My mind was whirling through the choices. The police, Alondra, Michael, someone. How did Lena know where we were?

My phone buzzed again: You’re not answering. You were way more fun before you had a baby.

I knocked over the end table, rushing to the bedroom. Over my shoulder I said, “Get in the car. I’ll get Grace.”

“Where are we going?” Dad asked as Mom swept everything into their suitcase.