33 | 6:48

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The wooden porch step creaked with protest as Nolan's knee bounced against it. He attempted to still his leg, but it refused to settle. His fingers, too—they insisted on curling, uncurling, tapping aimlessly against his jeans, his phone, the porch—anything.

He checked his phone. 6:47.

Thirteen minutes until Willow would arrive.

He glanced over his shoulder. Greg had promised to keep an ear out for movement, but Nolan was convinced that at any moment, Nora would throw open the front door and discover what he was doing.

His foot bounced faster. How would they—Willow, Nathan, Rachel—all react when he told them? More importantly, would they actually be able to help? He hoped so. Prayed so.

Prayed. He still couldn't believe the word had entered his vocabulary.

The idea of praying was still a little ludicrous. To ask for help from someone he didn't trust...

But...a part of him wanted to. Trust Him. As apprehensive as he'd been to give God credit, he'd seen the good He had done. Had felt it.

But...

His cereal bowl slipping from his hands. Nora crying, afraid to go home.

His own voice drifted through his head. "You're angry and you need someone to blame."

6:48.

Wheels on pavement wrenched his head upward. They were early. He stood, wincing against his tightening chest, and raced over to where Nathan pulled the car to a stop.

"Nora still asleep?" Willow asked as he shut the door and buckled his seat.

"Yeah," he said.

"Okay." Willow twisted around in the passenger seat. "Tell us everything."

Nathan's worried eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

Nolan gave himself one moment to consider the ramifications. To apologize. "I walked her home around eight," he began.

The story spilled out of him—even the parts that might have been unnecessary. He told them about stopping on the porch. About the kiss, which Willow raised her eyebrows at, but otherwise didn't react to. The way Isaac opened the door—kind on the surface, but something lurking beneath. Nolan's starting down the driveway, only to hear Isaac's snarling voice through the walls.

How he'd watched...

"He has her convinced this is all her fault," he finished. "That she killed her mom."

Willow faced forward. When she finally turned around, her eyes glistened with tears. "I had no idea," she breathed. "How could I have no idea?"

Nathan squeezed her shoulder. His other hand clutched the wheel, taut, knuckles whitening.

"He'd get snappy sometimes, sure...but...oh g—this is why I never slept...but..." She closed her eyes and refaced the windshield. There was a small sniff.

"Everything's going to be okay," Nathan said, giving her shoulder a final squeeze before returning it to the wheel. "Now we know, and we can get her somewhere safe."

Relief loosened a few knots in his stomach.

"Should we call the police?" she asked. "That's who you're supposed to call, right? For...for something like this?"

Nolan leaned forward.

"Once we tell Rachel, I'll make sure the authorities are informed. They'll lead us in the right direction." His eyes found Nolan in the rearview mirror. "I know she asked you not to tell anyone, but you did the right thing."

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