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"Angelina."

Brianna recognized her father's voice. It was coming through Crispin's laptop. Brianna's feet were free. She'd rolled herself closer to the desk earlier. She needed to know what was going on.

" No, Timothy. I’m not her. Do you not recognize your own daughter? I’m Summer, Daddy. And this is the man Trey shot.” It was Summer. Brianna was learning to tell them apart. Summer was the bossy one. Samia, too, but she was quieter. Cashlyn said odd things.

“Summer? What are you doing out here? It’s not safe for you out here tonight. You should go home. Right now.”

“Do you even really care?”

“Of course, I care. I am your father.”

“Is that what you call what you are? News to me. Norm was more my father than you ever were. Norm and Heather. ”

“Don’t…be angry with me. I really didn’t have much choice back then. Heather made…”

Powell’s brother Mac almost snarled. He was very angry. Brianna had known him long enough to figure that out fast enough.

" Quit blaming Aunt Heather. You left us, remember? ” Summer said sarcastically. “She was just a kid too.”

“Yes, I suppose she was. Make certain Heather understands…I just lost my temper. I was angry. I did not ever mean to hurt her.”

“You punched her, Dad. Right in the face. How was that not supposed to have hurt her? Just like before. You think Eddie, Sam, and I don’t talk about that day? Do you think we ever forgot? It was the day we buried our mother!”

“I know you couldn’t, baby girl. I was so angry then, Summer. At everything. At the world, mostly. At your mother too. And there she was. Heather. With your mother’s eyes, just looking at me with my own failure for me to see. I know I never should have hurt her. Or Marcia. What I did to Marcia—unforgiveable. I know that. I would like to apologize someday.”

“Sure you would. Is that why you are running away?”

“I…can’t get caught. I can’t. You need to understand that.”

Brianna stayed right where she was and listened.

Until someone pounded on the door.