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washing machine. One thing was for certain, she would never wash another load of clothes in that machine without reliving this moment.
    Together they walked into the basement, but Amelia let Royal go over to the machine himself. He opened it began to dig through, towels falling to the floor, followed by sheets patterned with an array of princesses. Taylor had never quite grown out of the princess thing. Amelia heard Royal roar, but it sounded like she was underwater. There was a pounding in her head, eventually she realized that it was the sound of her own blood pumping as she stared down at the blood-soaked sheets.
    Amelia went with Royal when he grabbed her by the arm; she didn't complain that his grip was too tight because even if it was she barely felt it. The cold fresh air washed over them, the slightest whiff of smoke wrapped up in it. Somewhere something was burning, and automatically she scanned the sky looking for smoke.
    Really she was looking at anything to focus on besides the cold hard truth that things were bad. Really bad. Bad enough that she wasn't sure she could handle them. Fiona and Taylor were the only family she had left, the only people who loved her without hesitation or judgment no matter what she'd done or was going to do. Royal tried to hug her, but she pushed away.
    There had to be some trace of who had taken them if there was this trace of what had happened. The idea that she might have destroyed anything in the kitchen and bathrooms with her frenzied cleaning spree made her want to throw up or cry or maybe just do both at once.
    The sound of bikes approaching filled the air, and Amelia headed for the front yard. She watched as Danny came to a stop, with Train directly behind him. She remained where she was, waited for him to come over to her. “Talk to me, Amelia.”
    “Taylor's sheets. Taylor's bloody sheets.” She looked down at the ground. “I think it was a set I got her for her birthday.”
    “Jesus Christ. Come on, let's get you out of here.”
    “Where else am I going to go, Danny? This is it. This is my home. No, I have to stay. I have to stay and find whatever there is to be found.” Amelia drew in a deep steadying breath. “I'm okay.” She met his eyes. “I think that ride is going to have to wait, though.”
    “I'm not going anywhere,” he replied. Amelia was pretty sure that he didn't believe she was fine, but it looked like he wasn't going to call her on it and she was glad for it.
     
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    They found blood in the area by the front door, between tiles that weren't perfectly aligned. Someone had cleaned up after themselves to a level that suggested experience with doing so, which suggested that this was a professional job. A professional job pointed in only one direction for Amelia. The only reason for Fiona and Taylor to be targeted was Royal, but it was impossible if no one knew about the connection. Except if someone knew. Royal had sworn he'd only told Danny, and no one could ask Fiona if she'd told anyone else besides Amelia. And now everyone knew; they'd had an impromptu church session in the basement. She'd had to stay upstairs.
    She was outside now, smoking a cigarette that she'd grabbed out of one of the packs the guys had thrown on the kitchen table. She'd quit years earlier but even just sitting there with it in her hand calmed her some.
    Amelia didn't look up as the door opened and closed. She assumed the footsteps that approached her were Danny's, but instead it was Train who sat down next to her. “Got a light?”
    “What do you want?”
    “A light, like I just said.” She handed him the matches she'd found and got to her feet. “Where are you running off to? You didn't even finish your smoke.”
    His borderline friendliness didn't sit right with her. They didn't do civil conversations past greeting one another and only did that out of respect. “You want to sit out here and chitchat? Have you had a recent head injury?”
    He laughed, and the