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her eyes. “Like, no one ever gets shot in Meridian.”
    My stomach feels like a stone has dropped into it. She’s right. I will never, ever take Livy to Meridian Park.
    She continues, “Maybe you and Mom should move too.”
    “You have room for us?”
    She laughs—hard. “Yeah. No. It’s tiny. Get your own damn place.”
    I feel tears prickle my eyes, and I take a few deep breaths to stop them. It’s always been Mom and Megan and me, and then when Livy was born, it was us four. It’s always been just us. Megan must sense how I’m feeling because her voice softens and she says, “I’ll miss you too, Daniel. Livy and I will be fine.”
    We pull onto our street, and Megan finds a parking spot in front of the building. A car rumbles past and she says, “That is so weird. That thing was behind us the whole way home.”
    I ratchet my head to see the vehicle. My stomach knots. It’s an SUV , an ice-blue Navigator, going slowly. I can’t see the driver, but I don’t have to. It must be Dove. And he must be pissed.
    Megan gets out and reaches into the back to get Livy.
    “No, I’ll get her,” I say. My hands tremble as I undo Livy’s seat-belt harness. She barely stirs as I lift her from the car seat. Her head rests on my shoulder. She smells like the playground, of dust and metal and fresh air. I breathe her in, trying to calm myself. Megan bends down to grab the loose shoe from the floor of the car.
    The Navigator has turned around and is driving back toward us. I pull Livy close and cover her with my jacket.
    The driver guns it, and the SUV thunders past us. The driver turns to give me a long look. He’s wearing a hat and dark glasses, but the message seems clear. He knows who I am and he knows where I live. And he knows about Livy. My heart hammers my ribs.
    Megan lifts her head. “Who is that?”
    I try to keep my voice from trembling. “Who knows? Just some idiot. He probably didn’t like the way you were driving.” With my one free hand I fish out my house keys. My hands are shaking so badly the keys jangle. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
    Indoors, I lay Livy on the couch and tuck a blanket around her. I stand for a minute, watching her sleep. Maybe it is good that Megan and Livy will be moving out—Dove won’t know where they’ve gone.
    I go to the window. Below, the street is quiet—people haven’t started coming home from work yet. It will be dark when Mom walks home from the bus stop. She’ll have her earbuds in, and she’ll be thinking about what to make for supper. She won’t have any reason to think she might not be safe. I draw the curtains.
    But she’s not safe. None of us are.
    My hands are shaking, but I punch out a message to Cyn. What did you tell Dove?
    In less than a minute, my phone buzzes. It’s Cyn’s number on the call display. I pick up.
    But it’s not Cyn. A man’s voice says, “Listen, peckerhead, I don’t know who you are, but you better stop texting my girlfriend. She does not want to talk to you. And she sure as shit doesn’t want to talk to you about me.”

Chapter Eleven
    I waited all last night for Cyn to call me so I could break up with her. She never called. Maxwell texted me at the same time he was texting with Mila. So then Mila weighed in and said Cyn must be nuts if she was still with Dove. She said Cyn always liked a bit of excitement. She said when they were younger, Cyn would walk into a store in the mall, pick up some random piece of clothing and walk out. Once she almost got caught but managed to drop what she’d stolen into a garbage can. The stuff Cyn took was never anything she really wanted, Mila said. Cyn just wanted the rush of walking out with it. Mila said Cyn’s stunts made them laugh. I know what she’s saying. When I’m with Cyn, I feel she gives me this supercharge of confidence. It’s like I can do anything. Mila continued, though, and said that when Cyn started with Dove, she changed. It was like all that energy turned