Chapter 1 - That’s Her
The front door swung open hard enough to strike the wall.
Two police officers stepped into my aunt Helena’s living room, followed by my pregnant mother.
Mom pointed straight at me.
“That’s her. She ran away.”
I stood near the worn green couch clutching a clean diaper in both hands. Three of my younger siblings sat among scattered toys, crying because Mom had brought them with her instead of leaving them somewhere safe.
My aunt immediately stepped in front of me.
“I didn’t run,” I said. “I asked for help.”
The female officer looked at my dirty sweatshirt, then at the toddlers, then at the backpack beside my feet.
Mom pulled my six-year-old brother, Mateo, closer by the shoulder.
He looked at me instead of her.
“Tell them,” she whispered.
His lower lip shook.
“Savannah has to come home.”
Mom smiled through carefully arranged tears.
Then she reached into her purse and pulled out my blue spiral notebook.
“I found proof she’s dangerous.”
My stomach dropped.
“You stole my journal.”
Mom stepped toward me, waving it like a courtroom exhibit.
Helena caught her wrist.
“Not one step closer.”
The male officer moved between them.
Mom’s fake crying faltered.
I stared at the notebook.
Then I remembered what Helena had hidden inside its reinforced spine two weeks earlier.
My fear changed into something colder.
May you like
“Officer,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady, “before she reads anything from that notebook, you need to press the black button beneath the back cover.”
Mom stopped breathing.
