I awoke the next morning in a haze, my brain foggy courtesy of my fitful night. I’d passed out on the couch as soon as I cocooned myself in the blanket, and though I had actually slept, it was definitely restless. My mind seemed incapable of letting go, so instead, it played a barrage of disturbing images while it held me hostage, Clockwork Orange -style, and I seemed powerless to make it stop. I really hoped Dr. Chin had some easy hacks for escaping that particular hell.

I was so not a fan.

What I was a fan of was the smell of bacon wafting in from the kitchen. I pushed myself up off the couch and turned to find Gramps hovering over the stove. He looked back over his shoulder at me and smiled, but it did little to hide the worry lines etched deep in his forehead.

“Mornin’, Junebug.” Yep . Definitely worried. “I thought I’d make ya some breakfast before I head off to work.”

“You really do know how to motivate a girl, don’t you?” I dragged my tired self into the kitchen and pulled some plates from the upper cupboard. My shirt rose, exposing my side a bit, and I turned to find Gramps staring at me once again.

“Girl, I know we ain’t suppos’ta talk about bodies and looks anymore, but yer skinnier than a matchstick. Are ya even eatin’? Sleepin’ enough?”

“I was just passed out on the couch, remember? Oh no,” I gasped, grabbing his arm, “you’re not getting dementia, are you? Do I need to get you an ID bracelet in case you wander off?” My wide smile and playful tone didn’t deflect the way I hoped they would—the way they always had. Instead of him laughing off his concerns, he doubled down on them.

“My memory is just fine , young lady. It’s you that aren’t.”

“Yes I am, Gramps—”

“The hell you are!” He smacked the counter with his wooden spoon to emphasize his point, then grimaced at his actions. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at me again. “I love ya, baby girl, and it tears me apart that all this has happened to ya. Ya know I would give anything to trade places with ya—or yer father, for that matter—anything to make all this pain go away, but I can’t. I ain’t never felt more useless in my whole life, and it kills me every time I look at ya, strugglin’ in silence because yer every bit yer mother’s daughter when it comes to that. I never was able to help her—only yer father could do that. And now he’s not here to help ya when ya need it most.” He reached out, took my hands, and stared right into my soul with those pale, wisened eyes. “Tell me how to help ya, Junebug. I’m beggin’ ya…” The anguish in his tone was more than I could bear. Tears seemed to appear out of nowhere to blaze a trail down my cheeks. “Maybe ya should go and talk to that fancy doc up at the FBI again. Maybe that’d do ya some good. Lord knows I’m not helpin’ any—”

“Gramps,” I said, choking on his name, “just being around you makes everything better. You’re the best thing in my life, and even though I might not be quite myself right now, I will be. I promise.”

He took my chin in his hands and lifted it higher. “I'm gonna hold ya to that, ya hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, okay then,” he said, turning his attention back to the bacon. “I’d better get this outta the pan before it catches fire and we’re eatin’ char sticks for breakfast.”

I shrugged. “I’d still eat it because bacon .”

The laugh I’d longed to hear echoed through the tiny space and wrapped itself around my heart. It was like a hug my soul desperately needed, and I felt a sense of relief I’d been craving for weeks. A sense of normalcy—a feeling of rightness—I’d wondered if I'd ever experience again. In that single moment, Gramps had done the very thing he feared he couldn’t: he’d made all the pain and worry and fear go away.

Still my rock.

Still my hero.

“Whatcha got planned after school today?” he asked, pulling me from my warm thoughts.

“Ugh…I have to pick up a gown from Bella’s for the Winter Festival parade. The sad remains of my pageant dress aren’t exactly fit for public display, so they’re loaning me one.”

“That’s mighty nice of them. And I’m glad ya mentioned the parade because I almost forgot it’s next week. I’m gonna make sure I can leave work early to be home to see ya sittin’ on the back of that convertible like a princess.”

“Well, that makes one of us. I, on the other hand, wish I could skip it. I clearly didn’t think this whole pageant-winner thing through.”

“But ya won’t because ya have responsibilities,” he said, eyeing me tightly.

I let out a sigh. “No, I won't. I’ll just lament the fact that I have to do it for a few days, then rally.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Are you headed into work early today?”

“I am. Got an extra shift this week to cover for McMurray. His damn hernia is actin’ up again. Fixin’ to have surgery on it next week, so I may not be around as much,” he said, shooting me a sideward glance, “if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. He helped cover for you when you needed him. It only seems fair.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He hesitated for a moment, bacon draped precariously across his spatula. “He works in the cell block your father’s been moved to, so I’ll be seein’ him today.” The tension in the air grew thick in a moment. “Is there anythin’ ya want me to tell him while I’m there?”

“Just tell him hi for me.”

Silence.

“I haven’t seen yer name on the visitor’s log recently.”

“Yeah, I haven’t had much time with all the schoolwork I'm behind on.”

He turned slowly to face me. “Rumor is you haven’t been takin’ his calls, either.”

“I’ve missed a couple while doing assignments, I think.”

His lips pressed to a grim line and he nodded. “I’m only gonna say this once because I know ya got yer own struggles right now, but yer father is in a tough spot, and I promise ya he’s doin’ his best.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t have to if he’d tell the truth about what happened that night,” I muttered under my breath. “Maybe he wouldn’t be in there at all.”

A dark shadow passed over Gramps’ expression, reminding me that the old codger still had hearing like a hawk. “Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t be above ground,” he said in a warning tone. “The justice system ain’t always fair, Kylene. And it sure as hell ain’t always just.”

He looked back at his task and began piling bacon and eggs onto two plates as though he hadn’t just slapped me with a sense of foreboding. It probably shouldn’t have shocked me that Gramps would know a thing or two about a system that failed people on the regular, but it was the way he’d said it—as though he’d seen the dark side of it and was never the same again. He’d hidden that darkness from me for my entire life, and I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he knew that had forced it into the light that morning.

What, if anything, he knew about the truth of my father’s incarceration.

I pulled two forks out of the drawer and placed them down on the table before taking a seat next to him. “Gramps,” I said, hedging slightly, as though I wasn’t sure how to even ask what I knew I must. “Do you know something about what Dad’s hiding?”

His forkful of eggs froze halfway to his mouth. “I don’t know what he’s hidin’, baby girl, but I do know if he’s hidin’ it, it ain’t good—and ya’d best leave it be.”

The truth was that I already had because there were no more leads to follow. The transcripts were useless. Meg’s defense file seemed to be a total bust. And with Manny dead and Dawson coming up empty, whatever trail I’d happened upon had long gone cold. I couldn’t poke that bear even if I wanted to.

“Okay, Gramps,” I said before stuffing a piece of bacon in my mouth, an attempt to thwart any follow-ups from him. But he just followed suit, taking a bite of his eggs and staring off into the distance as he chewed.

We ate the rest of breakfast in silence, each trapped with our thoughts we couldn’t, or wouldn’t, ever share.

* * *

“Are we still on for tonight?” Tabby whispered as she slipped into the chair next to me in study hall like we were on a secret mission I’d forgotten about.

“Yeah,” I replied, panicking a little because I had no clue what I’d apparently agreed to while in one of my dazes. “Sure…”

Her bright eyes narrowed as she stared at me. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say I forgot, exactly…more like misplaced my memory.”

“That’s literally forgetting, Ky.”

“I disagree, but you’re entitled to your opinion.”

She groaned loudly enough that Mrs. Summers shushed her from across the cafeteria.

“Your dress,” Tabby bit out in a muted yet somehow harsh tone, “the one you’re supposed to pick up today for the Winter Festival parade next week.”

Shit . That dress. The one I’d already forgotten about since I talked to Gramps about it.

“Time for that already?” This time it was my outburst that caught the ire of the study hall Nazi. I waved her off, looking as contrite as possible, but I knew we wouldn’t get a third warning.

“Yes. And we were going to go to Bella’s after school. Lavonia has it all ready to go.”

“Well, I can’t possibly let Lavonia down, especially after she convinced the owner to loan it to me for the event.”

“No, you most certainly cannot. So I’ll meet you at your car after last period?”

“That’ll work.”

Those doe eyes narrowed once again. “And you won’t forget?”

“Absolutely not…not intentionally, anyway.”

“You’re the worst!” Tabby exclaimed, earning her a visit from Mrs. Summers and a trip to the table of shame that sat right next to her. I waved at her from across the room in commiseration, then attempted to focus on the book in front of me.

I hadn’t entered the Winter Festival pageant because I wanted to win. I’d initially done it for the scholarship money, then stayed to figure out who was blackmailing its contestants. If I’d thought there was a snowball’s chance in hell that I could have won, I’m not sure I would have. Now I was stuck with queenly duties like a tree lighting ceremony and a parade to deal with when all I wanted to do was hole up at Gramps’ house and watch TV. I was hardly in a place to wave and smile and pretend like my life wasn’t in shambles—even more so than before.

But pretend, I would.

Something I was getting pretty good at.

* * *

We left the dress shop with a heavy black garment bag slung over my arm and a wide smile on Tabby’s face. “I can’t believe how gorgeous it is!” she exclaimed as she climbed into my car. “It looks even better on.” I laid the bag across the back seat, then sat down behind the wheel. “Don’t you think so?”

“Honestly, I didn’t really give it a good look. It fits, so I’m happy. I don’t need a wardrobe malfunction occurring in front of the whole town. That might be the thing to finally do me in.”

“Don’t say that…” Tabby’s plea was so weak and pitiful that I glanced her way before pulling out into the street. Her expression was far from an improvement.

“I was just joking, Tabs—”

“But it isn’t funny.” Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffled hard. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She turned to look out the window so I couldn’t see her crying, but from the way her shoulders shook, even with her back to me, I knew.

“Well, you’d definitely be bored,” I said gently, “I know that much.”

“But I don’t want to be bored, Ky. I want you to be my partner in crime!”

I rolled to a stop at a red light and reached over to grab her forearm. “Tabby, look at me.” She glanced over her shoulder, unwilling to turn around fully. “I’m still here. And I have no plans to go anywhere.”

“Your plans aren’t the problem,” she replied with a wary look. “Do you think that maybe everything with the AD could be over?”

I winced a touch at her words—and how much I hoped they were true. “I think nothing has happened since the pageant, and my father’s case is all but dead, so yeah…I think maybe it could be.”

“ Really ?” The light turned green, but that did nothing to deter Tabby. She threw her arms around me with reckless abandon and hugged me as tightly as the seatbelt restraining her would allow. It was easy to forget that everything that had happened hadn’t just affected me. And I wasn’t the only one hurting from it all. “I’m sorry,” she said as the driver behind us blared his horn, “I just—”

“I understand, Tabs. Really, I do. And it’s okay,” I said, pulling away to smile at her. “It’s kinda nice knowing how much you’d be missed.”

She choked on a laugh. “Well, that’s morbid.”

“Morbid, but true nonetheless.”

We sat there for a moment, tear-stained and smiling at each other while the guy in the white Subaru behind us lost his ever-loving mind.

“Maybe you should drive.”

“ What ?” I asked in dramatic fashion. “And miss this sweet symphony of swearing and honking serenading us?” I turned around to wave at the red-faced man sputtering profanities at the top of his lungs. “I think not, my friend. I think not.”

Instead, we sat there together, laughing until the light turned yellow. I waited until a calculated moment, then gunned it just before it turned red, leaving our number one fan stuck at the intersection. And for just a few minutes, we drove through the quiet streets of Jasperville, hands clasped together in solidarity, without a care in the world.