“It doesn’t feel too awful, I suppose,” Izzy said, propping herself on her elbow as she smiled over at us.

“As long as you brought a ridiculously nice present, I guess I’m okay with you being here.” I reached across Hannah and grabbed Izzy by the shoulder, pulling the three of us together in a tight huddle. “Promise me that this won’t ever happen again. Promise me that whatever absolutely crazy and absurd things happen in our lives, we don’t run away from one another. And we don’t let any of us run away, either. Each of us could have tried harder.”

We all reached our pinkies out and squeezed them in a knot, our sacred, unspoken oath.

“Well, then, now that we have that cleared up, I do believe there’s a baby shower happening downstairs for you, Mina,” Hannah said, hopping up from the bed. “Dr. Keller and Mrs. Lewis are here already. They’re waiting for the guest of honor to make her appearance.”

“Ugh. My hair looks like shit.” I pushed myself up and tried frantically to smooth down the frizz.

“You’re pregnant. Your hair’s allowed to look like shit,” Izzy said.

“Man, how I’ve missed your brilliant humor.”

“Get used to it, Mama. You’re going to be hearing it for the rest of your life.”

• • •

I could feel my dad hovering throughout the shower, a static buzz in the background that I couldn’t ignore. I was surprised that he was there at all, really, and not tinkering out in the garage or huddled up in his room with the door closed tight and some sort of sports news on the TV. He looked painfully anxious, as if he was just waiting for the shower to end and the ladies to leave. I couldn’t shut him out of my peripheral—couldn’t stop wondering what it was that had him so worked up. But I was in the middle of a circle of women, oohing and ahing over fuzzy onesies and miniature stuffed animals, and any sort of momentary escape was impossible.

As soon as the last present was opened, I excused myself for the bathroom and ducked into the hallway, hoping that my dad would still be poking around in the kitchen where I’d last seen him. He was there, luckily, standing by the large bay window with his back to me as I walked into the room.

“Dad?” I asked quietly, to avoid startling him. “What’s wrong? You seem so tense.”

He turned to me, his face gray against the dark blue of his sweater. My stomach swelled with dread. “What is it? What’s happening?”

“I’ve been following things online, Mina, and there’s been a sort of leak today about some plans that people have. Angry people. People who can’t accept that you’re sticking by your story. I think they’re making plans to all come together, to meet in Green Hill maybe, some kind of crazy protest mob. The details are a little hazy online, but I think it’s happening soon. More than a few people are referencing the plan. I don’t like it, Mina. I don’t want these people anywhere near you. Anywhere near our family.”

“Can you . . .” I choked, the words constricting in my throat. “Can you call the police?”

“Of course I can call the police,” he grunted. “And I will, but they’ve been pretty damn useless so far. Driving a few rounds during the night to make sure everything’s looking normal, but other than that, what have they done?”

Police weren’t the only ones patrolling at night, keeping watch over our house—I’d heard my dad shuffling and creaking around downstairs off and on for the past few weeks, and I’d seen the dark circles under his eyes, the new flecks of silver in his hair. The fear was taking its toll on all of us, but it was hitting him the hardest. He wanted to be our protector. He needed to be.

“People still call,” he said. “People still write. They’re a crew of small town cops up against an enemy they can’t begin to compete with, and an enemy they may even agree with.” He looked apologetic about that last part, but kept going. “We need to find out as much as we can on our own first. We need to find out what we’re really up against before we can decide on anything else. But we’re not going to sit around and do nothing, goddamn it. We’re not just going to let them win.”

“What’s going on?”

I turned to see Izzy and Hannah standing in the doorway.

“Who’s not going to win what?” Izzy asked, her eyes shifting from me to my dad.

“My dad thinks there’s going to be some sort of protest. An organized event in Green Hill, maybe.”

Hannah gasped, her eyes widening with alarm. Izzy reached an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

“So what are we going to do?” she asked. “What’s the plan?”

“I . . . I don’t know. I have to think about it,” I said, dropping into a kitchen chair. “I guess I shouldn’t be completely surprised that this is happening. I mean, really, it’s only been building up to this, right? The more pregnant I am, the closer I get to having this baby, the more the tension is rising, and they couldn’t possibly just let it all go. Not now, not after they’ve put this much attention on me for the last few months.”

“I don’t think it can just be you versus them,” Hannah said, her voice shaky, barely above a whisper. “Or even us versus them. I don’t think we can stop them from meeting, not if they’re not technically doing anything illegal. But maybe we can help bring out other voices, too, the people who have been supporting you, especially since the video went out. The people who believe you—the people who would be outraged that this, this . . . this hate group . . . is taking it so far. What if they came, too? What if they all came?”

Izzy whistled and sagged against the doorframe. “That sounds like an epic battle, Han. A little too explosive, maybe.”

“Maybe, but maybe an explosion is what we need to blow everyone else away. I mean, it can’t keep going on like this, can it? Something has to be done. And if we can’t stop them from coming, the least we can do is make sure it’s a balanced fight, right?”

“Jesus, Han, you’ve certainly changed in six months.”

“It’s been a long six months, Izzy.” Hannah sighed. Izzy’s cheeks flamed, and she looked down at the tiled floor.

“I don’t know, Han, it does sound a little risky.” I looked up at my dad, waiting for his vote.

“She might be right,” he said, turning back to stare out the front window. “If we can’t stop them, we do the best we can to show that we’re not alone. It will at least make me feel like you’re less vulnerable if there are other people standing in front of you. It’s either that . . . It’s that, Mina, or we take you away from here. You leave Green Hill and hide out, at least until everything cools off. Protecting you and the baby is my first priority.”

It wasn’t as if this idea were new to me—it was exactly what I had promised myself I’d do if necessary on that dark, gloomy car ride back from Long Beach Island. And I had thought about it the very first time Gracie told me that she was scared for our safety. But now that I was getting so close to the end, now that Izzy was back, I wasn’t ready to let go of my life here. I wasn’t ready to surrender. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “That seems like giving in to them. Everyone will be fine, no matter who comes and who doesn’t come. The worst they can do is hold signs and scream names at me, and trust me, there’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

My dad dropped his fist against the wooden table, banging a few times without saying a word. Knocking on wood. The action, so subconscious and immediate, made me shiver. I usually laughed when he did that, an old family joke, since none of us were actually superstitious enough to believe in jinxes. But no one laughed this time. I was actually thankful he had done it. Just in case.

I needed anything—any kind of luck or good fortune I could get.

Anything that would keep me and my baby safe.