Page 76 of Darkwater Lane

“I found the college acceptance letters.”

She comes to an immediate stop. It takes me a few more steps to slow, and I turn to face her.

She stands with her hands on her hips. Her expression is stormy, the glare in her eyes accusatory. “What?”

“I was looking for myRamonesshirt you keep taking.”

She scowls at me. “And you thought it might be in a shoebox under my bed?”

I don’t try to explain that, as her mother, I have a right to snoop wherever I want. She’s still legally a child and under my care and control. Instead, I say, “I’m sorry.”

My apology doesn’t penetrate. “When?” she demands. “When did you find them?”

I blow out a breath, knowing my answer isn’t going to make things much better. “A couple of weeks ago.”

Her eyes go wide. “Are you kidding me right now?”

She mumbles something under her breath and resumes her jog, except this time, she’s running. I sprint to catch up to her. “Can we talk about this, please?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you applied to all those schools?” I ask.

“Because I didn’t want to,” she responds curtly.

“Why the private mailbox?”

“To keep itprivate.”

I’m done with this. I’ve been tiptoeing around this information for long enough. I grab her arm and pull her to a stop. We’re both panting. “Please, Lanny. I want to understand.”

“No, you don’t,” she spits.

The vehemence of her reply takes me aback. She’s angry, but it doesn’t feel like this is just about me snooping in her room anymore.

“You keep saying things will change. You promised we’d stop letting fear dictate our lives. But nothing changed. Sure, for a little while you let me drive to school every now and again, but then youstarted to get paranoid. And I hear you in the mornings, you know. When you get up early and sneak into your office for Sicko Patrol. You’re not fooling anyone.”

I wince, her words hitting like a physical blow. Now that she’s gotten started, though, she continues.

“I know you’re scared, Mom, but so am I. You’re worried about some psycho killer jumping out of the bushes, and I’m scared about figuring out who I am and what I want to do with my life. When I set up that school visit last fall, the first thing you did was drill me on situational awareness. You never asked what classes I planned to sit in on or what I was most excited about seeing.

“You’re always so focused on the threat. Nothing else interests you. So, no, I didn’t tell you about applying to college because I already knew what you would say. You’d look up campus maps and pull dorm schematics to find out which were the safest and what the best escape routes were. You’d spend more time studying crime maps than the class catalog, and I wasn’t interested in that.”

I want to tell her she’s wrong, but she’s not. I can’t lie to her or to myself.

“I’m sorry, Lanny,” I tell her. I mean it with every fiber of my being. I don’t know how to tell her what it’s like being a parent. That our kids come into the world squishy and soft and so, so vulnerable. There is no joy or terror like holding a child for the first time, knowing that it’s not just their physical bodies you’re in charge of but also their hearts and souls, dreams and desires.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “I’m not going to any of those schools anyway.” She turns and starts walking.

I hate the tiny spark of elation I feel at hearing that. My daughter isn’t going away to college. She’s not moving across the country. She’s going to stay home and be safe.

My chest crushes at the thought. What kind of a mother am I, happy that my baby is giving up on a dream? I can’t do this. I can’t be this person.

I can’t let her do this.

“Lanny, wait,” I call as I chase after her on wobbly legs. “Why aren’t you going? What changed? If it’s the money, we can find it.” I’m not sure how, but we could make it happen. If we finished the podcast and sold it, I was sure we could make something. I hate the idea of making money off Melvin, but if it paid for Lanny’s college, it would be worth it.

She shakes her head. “It’s not the money. Though, damn, those schools are expensive.”