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“He’s got two little girls and some lions just moved next door to him,” her mother said. “He’ll do anything for the cause, even if it means being in jail for a long time.”
Quinn fought back a shiver.
“We shouldn’t even be talking about this,” her mother muttered.
Silence ruled for the rest of the ride back to the motel.
* * *
Quinn managedto look half-bored and half-tired until her motel room door was locked.
Thenshe started freaking out. She tore her uncomfortable clothes off, pulling on a soft old t-shirt and jeans as she paced back and forth, her head in her hands.
What am I supposed to do?she thought.
She hadn’t actually heard anything that she could go to the police with. What was she supposed to say — I heard my parents talking about a rifle and a new guy?
They’d mentioned Jacob, sure, but everyone was talking about Jacob.
Besides, there was nothing they could use. No evidence against her parents, no info on who the new shooter was, or when or where the shooting was going to happen.
Hell, she wasn’t even positive they’d been planning a shooting. All she really had was a bad, bad feeling.
Besides, she was a known member of an anti-shifter group. Why would the police believe her? Why would they think she’d suddenly turned on her parents?
This might be a good time to call your brother, she thought, and before she even knew what she was doing, she was opening the book and dialing his number on her phone, each ring on the other end sending her anxiety higher and higher.
“Quinn?”
At George’s voice, she blinked back sudden tears. It had been years since she’d heard him speak.
“Hey,” she said.
“What’s up?” he said. She thought she heard a note of caution in his voice, like she might be calling as some kind of trap, some way for his parents to finally get back at him.
“I understand why you left,” she said.
Silence on the other end.
“I’m in Cascadia with them, protesting the triad marriage court case, and it’s awful. They’re awful. These people don’t deserve the stuff that mom and dad say about them, they’re just normal people.”
“I know,” George said.
“I believed them for so long,” she said.
Tell him about the assassination attempt, she thought.
“I did too,” George said, softly. “That was all we knew growing up.”
Quinn said nothing, just sighed unsteadily into the phone. She felt like she was on the verge of tears — here, at last, was someone who knew exactly how she felt.
“People can change,” George was saying. His voice sounded like he was outside or something. “Mom and Dad probably won’t, but their hate is their burden, not yours.”
Quinn nodded, then remembered that her brother could only hear her.
She took a deep breath.
“I need your help with something,” she said. Her hands started shaking again.
