Taken by Storm
and shook her head. “I haven’t heard from him.”
    MJ almost spit out the sip of coffee he’d just taken. Rachael was a terrible liar. A poker face she
did not
have. She’d heard from Merrick, all right.
    His grandfather made a
tsk tsk
sound. “He’ll come around.”
    MJ tossed his toast back onto the plate. He wasn’t going to stick around and listen to false promises that his asshole father would come around. He strode past his grandfather, but the Old Man caught him by the arm. “Hold on a minute. I’d like to talk to both of you in my office in an hour.”
    “I have plans.” MJ tried to free his arm, but his grandfather held tight.
    MJ clenched his teeth and smiled. He knew not to press his luck with his grandfather, but if he could take oneswing… it would only take one and the years of held back aggression would take the Old Man down.
    “Your plans can wait.” The look he gave MJ was like a dare and a promise all in one narrow-eyed glance. It said,
I’m the reason you’re not on the street. You’ll do as I say or you will be.
    MJ jerked his arm hard, freeing it. “Yeah. One hour. Got ya.”

Four
    M addie stopped the golf cart beside the lake at the back of the Rocha property. She walked a fine line by being there. More memories of her and MJ than she cared to remember lingered in the water and the blowing limbs of the moss-covered trees. She wasn’t sure she could hold them at bay, or the tears they would inevitably bring with them.
    She picked up a long stick and rounded the lake, batting the tall grass in front of her as she went. Startling unseen things—turtles and frogs—with each footfall, they splashed into the lake making the water ripple and sparkle in the morning sunlight. Mixed with the heady scent of dry grass and wildflowers, it was almost too much for her to take.
    She ached to be young again, swimming in the lake and playing truth or dare with her best friend in the world. How much longer could she keep his grandfather’s secret? Keeping it for MJ’s own good was tearing her apart.
    “Don’t crush it!” she yelled at MJ, and tried to save the lightning bug in his cupped hands.
    MJ twisted away from her. “Todd Calabreeze said if you squash it and rub its stuff all over your hands, they glow.”
    “Don’t you dare.” Maddie wondered why nine-year-old boys had to be so dumb. And gross. “I’ll tell my dad if you do and he won’t be happy.”
    If there was one person MJ would listen to, Maddie knew it was her dad.
    “Fine.” MJ opened his hands and shook them. The bug blinked a few times and flew into the air. “Happy?”
    He stomped off and stood at the edge of the lake. Maddie followed. She hated it when he was mad at her. They didn’t have much time together, and the weeks he was home on breaks she didn’t want to spend fighting.
    She plucked a cattail from the bank and whacked him in the head with it.
    “What the heck, Mads?” He pulled a cattail of his own out of the ground and batted her back. She ducked and it hit her shoulder.
    They were both laughing now and sword fighting with their cattails, chasing each other along the bank of the lake. Maddie hit a patch of mud and slid. Shrieking, she reached back and grabbed MJ’s arm. Both of them toppled into the lake.

    The memory made Maddie laugh. They’d walked home in the dark, wet and covered in mud. “You should’ve let me squash the lightning bug,” MJ had said.
    Walking through the side yard of the original Rocha Estate, a small stone cottage from the eighteen hundreds that now served as a guest house, Maddie reached the tree line behind the lake and easily found the trail that headed toward the Rocha family cemetery. There had once been asplit-rail fence at the entrance through the trees, but all that remained of it was rotted wooden posts. Over the years, the path had been marked by a stepping-stone in the shape of a cross.
    Dead leaves crunched and twigs snapped under her feet. She knew it wasn’t
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