What do you know about him? Dalton said enough to know this isn’t actually about me, she said. What does Pierce think my father has? Dalton looked around the lot automatically. The surveillance of someone who’d grown up in a house where being overheard had consequences.

He told me Dalton started stopped. Started again. He said, “Your father was someone who could make trouble for him. That it was important your father understood Mil Haven wasn’t the right fit. ” He looked at Ren. He didn’t tell me why, just that it was important.

But you did what he asked, Ren said. Dalton’s jaw tightened. Something moved through his face that wasn’t anger at her. Anger at something older and larger than this parking lot. I always do what he asks, he said.

The words came out weighted differently than he’d intended, like something heavier than he’d meant to put down. Ren looked at him steadily. Do you know what he asked you to do was wrong, she said. Silence? Yes, he said.

Just the one word. Quietly. Then why? He looked at her with the expression of someone being asked to explain something that had always just been the weather. Because I’ve been doing what he asks since I was 9 years old, he said.

Because in my house, doing what he asks is what keeps things safe. For my mom, he stopped. His eyes went briefly to his left forearm where the old scar ran pale and thin below his sleeve. I stopped making decisions without him when I was 14. I’ve been doing it that way for 4 years.

He said it the way a person says something when they’ve counted and found the number worse than expected. Ren was quiet a moment. She thought about what her father had said on the backst steps. About the years when leaving felt impossible about how understanding a thing was different from excusing it. About how both could be true at the same time.

Your stepfather thinks my father has something from 1919. She said something from a meeting. A photograph. Dalton’s face confirmed it before he said anything. He knew about 19 to99 or enough of it.

He’s been worried about it for years. Dalton said, “When your father showed up here, he panicked. I’ve never seen him panic before. ” “Not like that. ” He looked at Ren. “What’s in the photograph? ” “That’s between my father and Sheriff Marsh,” Ren said. Something moved through Dalton’s expression.