Jesus. She had to be thirty feet in the air.

Dressed in black, she had a long, blonde braid draped over her shoulder and a beanie on her head, but I couldn’t see well enough to know if I recognized her.

“You!” Michael yelled to her. “Come here!”

We ran and saw her spin around, disappearing off the roof.

She jumped down, the shoelaces of her ratty sneakers dragging across the ground.

“Get her!” Rika yelled.

Michael dug in his heels, shot toward the girl, and caught her arm just as she was rounding the corner.

“I got her!” he bellowed, sweeping her into his arms.

But then she bit his hand, and he dropped her, hissing.

“What the hell?” he barked.

She ran, slipping around the booths, past the roller coaster, and disappearing into the pitch-black forest.

“Shit!” Michael gritted out.

We stopped, breathing hard and knowing she was gone.

“Was she living down there?” Rika asked us. “She can’t be more than eight.”

I shot her a look. “Do you recognize her?”

“No.” She shook her head. “She’s not from around here.”

I stared into the trees for another moment, hearing Lev and David start with the hoses and putting our shit out.

“Some mayor you are.” I chuckled. “Little Newt from Aliens is squatting in your abandoned theme park, and you’re trying on wedding dresses.”

Rika slapped me in the stomach and then took Michael’s hand, inspecting the bite.

“She’s a fighter, huh?” she joked, grinning up at him.

He snarled. “She’ll be back. Can’t get far on foot.”

And it almost sounded like he wasn’t so worried about the little shit’s safety and well-being, just itching for some payback.

Sirens pierced the air behind us, and I looked over my shoulder, seeing the oh-so-familiar lights of a police car racing into the lot.

That was fast.

I looked to Michael. “Go. Hurry.”

He scowled at me.

“Go!” I whisper-yelled.

Don’t worry about me. Not anymore.

He held my eyes, but before he could argue, I started walking toward the ticket booths and the parking lot.

A single police officer, dressed in black in a thick jacket for the chilly October evening, talked on his radio as he looked around the park and the flames.

He noticed me, stopped talking to whoever he was talking to, and I could almost see the sigh.

“Will Grayson,” he said. “My favorite pyro.”

I pulled off my hat and gave him a smile. “Baker. How’s the family?”

“Growing.” He nodded, stepping toward me as I stepped toward him. “The wife is on baby number three.”

“Yours?”

He cocked an eyebrow, looking unamused.

I smiled wider.

“Are you going to make me handcuff you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “There are some people I wanted to say hi to anyway. Let’s go.”

Emory

Present

“Emmy, wake up!” someone called, shaking my body.

My eyes popped open, and I startled, turning over. “What? Who is that?”

It wasn’t Will’s voice.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes as someone turned on the lamp, and I looked up, seeing Rory and Micah walking around my room.

I reached for my new glasses and slipped them on. “What are you guys doing?”

“Will’s been arrested.” Micah tossed me some clothes. “He started a fire at the Cove.”

Huh? “The Cove?”

I held the clothes to my chest, trying to make sense out of what they were telling me, my chest slowly constricting.

He started a fire at the Cove? And he was now sitting in jail?

Son of a bitch. I growled, shooting off the bed. “One day! Not even one day back in town and he’s back in a cell!” I unhooked my overalls and pulled on the black, long-sleeved shirt. “Ugh!”

They spun around, and I dropped the overalls, slipping into the jeans and pulling on Alex’s sneakers before I tied up my hair into a ponytail.

In jail… Tears welled. Not again.

“Do you know who arrested him?” I asked.

“We don’t know this town,” Micah snapped, tossing me a jacket. “Damon is going to try to get him out, but we told him to wait. We wanted to get you.”

I shook my head. “I’m going to kill him. What the hell is wrong with him?”

I zipped up the jacket and headed out of the room with them, jogging up the stairs.

I should let him sit there. This one was on him. An endless cycle of not being accountable or controlling his behavior. This wasn’t a choice. It was a habit, and I didn’t need this shit in my life.

He was a man? He was going to be a father someday? Yeah, right.

I kicked the door open. Motherf—.

“Let’s go,” I told them, running out of the house and into the driveway.

Damon stood next to a G-Class that looked a lot like the one Michael drove in high school, and I had no idea where everyoneelse was, but he saw me and immediately straightened.

“No way in hell. She’s not coming,” he said.

I grabbed the keys out of his hand and walked around the front of the car. “She’s driving, actually.”

“Nah-uh. No.”

I looked at him over the hood. “What are you going to do?” I challenged. “I sent him to jail. You tried to kill him. You really gonna argue with me right now?”

If I didn’t have a right, then neither did he.

He twisted his lips to the side, giving me that “eyes-falling-down-my body-to-inspect-the-competition-with-a-side-of-judgment” look, but he shut his damn mouth.

I wasn’t any worse for Will than he was, so he could stow it.

We all climbed into the car, and I started it, punching the gas and swerving around the driveway.

Would Martin be there? I knew he didn’t live or work in town anymore, but he still maintained a presence here, and if his police had Will Grayson in a cell, that would almost certainly get him out of bed at this hour.

Shit. I didn’t want to see Martin. I didn’t need to face him. We’d been done.

Will, you’re such an asshole.

I raced through town as Micah filled me in on where they’d all gone tonight and what Will had decided to do. I was tempted to jerk the wheel right on over to the cathedral and disappear—stay somewhere he couldn’t find me— but…

I should’ve gone to him years ago. I was going to show up for him once. At least once before this was over.

Stopping in front of the police station, I looked across the street, seeing a figure behind the desk inside, the neighborhood quiet and not another soul in sight.

“We need a distraction,” I told Damon. “Any ideas?”

He stared out the front window, ignoring me, but then…he dropped his eyes and exhaled, giving in.

He turned his head, speaking to Micah and Rory. “Get out.”

What?

“Hell no,” Rory said. “We’re going in.”

“Get those cars started,” Damon told Micah, turning and meeting his eyes and then pointing to the vehicles parked down the street behind him.