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PROLOGUE

SHILOH

ELEVEN YEARS AGO

T hey’re about to take him away. About to rip him from my life.

My tummy aches. I think I might be sick.

Worse than that.

I might never see him again.

Kaleb Leo Blackwood.

My best friend.

My stepbrother.

It’s my fault he’s here in the first place. In this courtroom. Sitting at the defendant’s table, as Daddy called it.

It’s my fault his days as a free boy are over.

My bones shake. A sob threatens to rip from me. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold it in.

I have to be brave.

I’m all I’ve got now .

Sure, I have one living parent, my dad. A stepmom. Our staff. We all live together in our mansion in Medina, Washington. Not here, in Seattle, where the court is.

In the city where Kaleb killed two kids.

I think I have a couple of friends other than that. The rest of the sixth graders I go to school with don’t talk to me.

People. They’re just people who are physically close to me. They don’t care about me.

Only Kaleb does. He’s been the one to show me what it feels like to be truly cared for over the past five months.

No more of his friendship. His comforting silence. His kindness.

My fault. Those were my tears that slipped out, and he saw them.

Shiloh, who did this to you?

He wouldn’t let me go until I told him what happened.

The memory of his voice is clear in my ears. As loud as the guilt that suffocates me. It hurts everywhere, knowing it’s my fault.

I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

If I had, we wouldn’t be here waiting for them to declare him criminally insane. Without a trial. Without a jury.

Criminally insane.

Because of my father. He called everyone he knew to make sure everything would be wrapped up quickly.

No press coverage, do you hear me? I’ll sue and ruin any news outlet that dares tarnish my name.

Kaleb isn’t insane. I say that to my dad all the time, but he never listens. He hates both of us .

“All rise.”

I’m quick to do as the bulky bailiff says. I’m a kid, just eleven years old. I’ve been taught to listen to adults or else.

And this adult’s command is loud. It’s made louder as it bounces off the wood walls of the courthouse.

But the rest of the people here aren’t as scared as I am. No, they rise slower.

Maybe their daddies never got mad at them for taking too long.

Maybe.

Mine sure has.

Mine doesn’t fear anything or anyone. Wearing one of his expensive blue suits, he rises last.

Right after Astrid, Kaleb’s mom. She’s dressed in a white skirt and blazer, her blonde hair twisted at the nape of her neck. Her golden eyes, which are so much like Kaleb’s, are fixed on my father.

Daddy ignores her. His brown gaze is locked on the judge.

I wish we were the only people here.

We aren’t.

On the other side of the aisle, already standing, are the so-called victims’ parents.

Before them stands the old district attorney. He has gray hair, and his assistant is a blonde lady. My stomach is in knots. I hate them so much.

I hated them as soon as they walked into my home this past week .

Even more so when both of them left, smiling, each holding a large suitcase they had received from Daddy. They laughed like they were sharing a joke or something.

A mean joke.

Other people visited Daddy after them. They’re here—the two lawyers who were supposed to help Kaleb. To make everything blow over and fast , my father told them.

Scarlett, the first lawyer, has dark eyes and darker hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Grayson, the second one, has brown hair and blue eyes.

They look so much alike. Shoulders squared. Gray suits. Serious expressions.

They stand, too. Of course, they do.

The last person I recognize here as Daddy’s friend is Judge Gwyneth. She just walked into the court now. Black robe. White hair. Green eyes. She’s smiling.

What is she smiling about?

Oh, she’s looking at my dad.

She can do whatever she wants. I don’t care about her anymore.

Kaleb. I care about him.

While everyone rises, he stays in his seat.

My savior. My hero.

The person I’m about to lose today.

“Get up, Son,” Dad growls at him.

Scarlett’s hand is already on Kaleb’s shoulder, demanding that he rise.

He listens to no one.

She still tries .

That’s what she’s being paid for.

Fighting for his freedom sure isn’t it. Kaleb and I watched an episode of Law & Order the other day. While I didn’t understand everything on the show, I know it didn’t look like this:

“Bad people who embarrass our family should be kept locked away,” Daddy said. Astrid cried louder. I heard them in their room. “Fine, not in prison. A psychiatric hospital. That fiend. He’s bad for our image.”

At that, she stopped crying.

I couldn’t. Was Daddy right? Was I friends with a bad person for five months? I didn’t think so. But my father wouldn’t stop screaming at me that I’m stupid and that Kaleb will hurt me.

No.

No.

Maybe?

A tear slips past my eye, rolling down my cheek. Scarlett, the lawyer, whispers something to Kaleb and he finally gets up.

From where I stand, I see his solemn face. His dark brown hair has been cut short on the sides and is longer on top. His golden eyes stare straight ahead. His sharp jaw is clenched tight and his full lips are pinched shut. The muscles in his arms and shoulders stretch his deep blue suit.

He did a terrible, terrible thing.

Ripping the hearts of the two kids who attacked— assaulted , the detective who interviewed me called it at first, before she said it was nothing—me .

Hiding two of their chopped fingers in a shoebox in my closet was weird. People don’t do that. Then he told me it was my gift. Our little secret.

It didn’t seem like a bad thing at the time. Maybe I was wrong about that. I feel like I’ve been wrong about everything lately.

A few people called my stepbrother a monster when we walked into court today. They didn’t get close—not them, not the photographers. Daddy’s security held them back and smashed their cameras.

What he couldn’t stop was the police raiding our home. He did nothing when so many policemen and women and squad cars arrived at our house to drag Kaleb away less than two weeks ago.

A fifteen-year-old boy.

We have footage of him leaving the scene. His hands were bloody. We have fingerprints on their hearts and the cleaver, Mr. and Mrs. Talbot. We have a warrant for it. For his DNA as well.

The boy is a monster.

No.

Dad repeats it, though. He’s just like the people who waited outside for us to arrive today. Even Kaleb’s mom didn’t visit him in his cell. She said it was too long of a drive from our home in Medina. It wasn’t. I know she lied.

He isn’t a monster. Can’t be.

Yes, he’s taller than everyone in the courthouse. Larger too. They avoid looking him in the eye .

I’ve always been grateful for that. He’s a wall, protecting me whenever Dad yells at me. Kaleb is the reason I haven’t been slapped for the past five months.

We’ve been spending hours together. Just me and my big brother.

Unlike Dad, I don’t mind at all when Kaleb’s wearing the white mask I clutch between my fingers now. The one with the fake brown hair that’s a lot messier than his is. With the creepy black holes for his eyes.

It’s cool. He’s cool.

He’s there for me and listens to me. He helps me assemble so many jigsaw puzzles when we play in my room together.

Kaleb has never laid a hand on me. Never touched me like Connor and Lee did. Other than carrying me to bed when I fell asleep on the couch in our living room, he never hurt me.

He cared when no one else did.

Shiloh, who did this to you?

“You may be seated.” This is Judge Gwyneth.

Everyone sits.

Everyone other than Kaleb.

The worry that he’ll get into more trouble makes my throat burn. “Kaleb, please, sit down.”

He looks over his shoulder.

Oh, no.

His eyes are almost as dark as the ones on his mask.

The judge clears her throat. “Mr. Blackwood.”

Please , I mouth, feeling Dad’s fury building beside me.

Kaleb cuts his gaze to him before finally sitting .

The judge starts talking about the case and the plea deal in big words that I have trouble understanding. I know what they mean, anyway.

My stomach aches. My gut twists. I’m sweating, shaking.

Kaleb scares me. Losing him scares me.

Judge Gwyneth goes on, even though I’m about to throw up. She doesn’t care that she’s about to leave me alone in the world. That she’s about to lock up the only person I love.

Bad people who bring shame to our family should be locked away .

I stop myself from shaking my head at Daddy’s words.

It’ll make him mad if I act out. And Kaleb won’t be there to protect me when he punishes me.

I won’t be there to be his only friend. His little sister.

Who will care about him there? Will I ever be allowed to visit?

He’ll be alone. Both of us will.

Anger is another painful emotion. I wish I didn’t feel it. I do.

Kaleb didn’t have to kill these boys. We could’ve stayed together. Before that, Kaleb’s mom always managed to convince Daddy to let him stay.

I owe him that much , she used to say.

Then Kaleb got arrested.

He chose to leave me.

My fingers dig into the latex of his mask, tighter than ever.

Why did you do it?

I’m confused. Everything hurts .

Judge Gwyneth’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “…not guilty on the offenses charged in the indictment for the cause of insanity, as per the plea bargain.”

“No!” a woman screams.

“Our babies!” another wails, her voice shattered.

Did no one tell them how this would end? Like they told us?

“Order.” Bam! Bam! Bam! The judge slams her gavel.

Kaleb starts to turn toward me. Grayson, with a hand on his nape, silently begs him to look straight. Kaleb growls.

“We didn’t agree to this!” The man drowns out the bailiffs.

People talk and shout. They’re so loud. They’re inside my head.

It’ll explode any second now.

“That’s right!” one of the dads to my right shouts. My heart hammers. Kaleb only shrugs. “We get to have a say in this.”

When the screaming and crying continue, the judge slams the gavel again. “Remove them from my courtroom.”

“We’re the victims’ parents,” the first woman calls out. “You can’t throw us out.”

“Out.” The judge jerks her head. Now that I really look at her, I’m sure I’ve seen her around the house once or twice in the past. She’s one of Daddy’s many friends.

“No! No!”

Scuffling. Growling. Crying.

The room is filled with them.

Then it’s quiet.

So .

Very.

Quiet.

“Please rise.”

The three of them are on their feet.

“Kaleb Leo Blackwood.”

His hands move at his front, closing the buttons of his suit jacket.

The one he won’t be wearing much longer.

Instead of fisting his mask, I hug it to my body. Daddy scoffs at my side, but I ignore him.

I’ll pay for it later.

I will.

Now, I need comfort. I need him.

I won’t have him. The judge is saying that he’s going to a psychiatric hospital.

Where he’ll stay until…

Until…

No one knows.

Daddy hopes it’s for the rest of his life.

Yesterday, Kaleb’s mom finally said that she hoped so, too.

If it were up to me…

“Kaleb,” I sob his name when the men lead him out. “Kaleb, please. Please!”

Please, don’t leave me.

Or…please, go away. I don’t want you to kill me.

He twists his head. His stare is sharp, slicing into me.

The pain in my tummy intensifies. Invisible knives slash through me .

They drag him, yet he won’t stop looking at me. He needs me to say something, I’m sure of it. Kaleb begs me to say what it is I want.

I bet that if I asked, he’d run away with me right this minute.

He’s bad news, Shiloh. You’d do well to forget him, or you’d end up like those kids. Dead without their hearts and some of their fingers.

I wish Kaleb would stay. I wish he wouldn’t kill me if he did.

What should I do?

What should I do?

“Let’s go, Shiloh.” Daddy’s hand clamps around my arm. Too strong. Too tight.

I can’t say a thing.

Kaleb growls as they take him far, far, far from me.

“Take it.” I thrust my hand out to him, holding the mask out.

He’s nowhere near me, though. He’ll never be able to reach it.

He glances at it.

For a second.

Then, his dark glare lands on my face.

“Don’t worry, little sister.” His voice is as cold as a Seattle winter.

Goosebumps prickle on my body. My breath catches in my throat. “I’ll be back for you.”

He’s being hauled out. They’re rough. Mean.

They’re upsetting me. Making my chest hurt .

Kaleb pays them no mind.

“I promise you.” His lips curl. “Whatever it takes, I’ll come back for you.”