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in black lashes, the kid who’d sneaked into her bedroom at night with his teddy bear because he was afraid of trolls under the bed. He looked scared now. All her anger vanished in a big puff of smoke. And without the anger, the anguish of knowing she’d failed him ripped at her heart. “Hey, Sis.” His voice shook as he lowered himself into the chair across from her. Once settled, he touched her hand, carefully, almost as if he feared she’d pull away.
    Didn’t he know she loved him with every ounce of her heart? Didn’t he know the reason she hadn’t come until now was because this was going to kill her, and perhaps the only way to teach him to deal with the messes he created was to leave him on his own? Tough love wasn’t easy. Not for the giver or the receiver. She felt a few tears trickle down her cheeks. This visit might take three tissues.
    “Hey back at you.” The ache in her throat doubled as she turned her palm over and threaded her fingers through his.
    “You look good. Mom said you finally got your divorce.”
    “Yeah. And I sure showed him. I got custody of most of his bills.” Swallowing, she fought for control. Billy probably got all the tears he needed from their mom. “How are you?”
    “I’m…making it.” He gave the room a glance then met her eyes. “I know you’re mad,” he whispered. “You deserve to be mad. But I…There’s trouble.”
    Macy braced herself for the whole break-out-of-prison request. This visit would definitely require three tissues
    Billy leaned in. “I need your help.”
    “What kind of help?” she whispered back.
    “There’s this man. He’s real bad.” Billy’s big blue eyes grew wide. “He cut this guy’s head off. Now he wants to kill me and—”
    “Why?” Macy gasped. “Why does he want to kill you?”
    “Well, I sort of stole his girl.”
    Macy’s mouth fell open. “You did what?”
    “Her letter to him got caught inside my magazine in the mail room. I thought it was to me…from you, Nan, or Mom.” He glanced away. “It wasn’t to me, but…She wrote this poem about her grandma, and it was so beautiful. I wrote her and told her I’d accidentally opened her mail, and I told her how beautiful her poem was. I never dreamed that she would write me back. But she did, and…we fell in love.”
    “You stole a murderer’s girl?” she asked. “Couldn’t you have, I don’t know, gone after a deadbeat dad’s? Or someone less violent, like a white-collar criminal?”
    Billy’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m serious.”
    “I’m not? What the hell were you thinking? You don’t steal a murderer’s girlfriend. Didn’t they teach you anything in school?”
    “I didn’t know he was a murderer.”
    “Wait!” Macy held up her hands. “I don’t need to know this. Because I can’t fix it. I mean, if you think this guy who just happens to cut people’s heads off will listen to me, why, I’ll be happy to read him the riot act, but something tells me—”
    “I don’t want you near that freak. I want you to talk to Ellie.”
    “Ellie?”
    “My girlfriend.” Billy bit down on his lip.
    Macy blinked. “The same girl who dated the murderer?” When Billy nodded, Macy dropped her head on the table. Her pizza delivery hat flipped off and her hair scattered. The cold metal on her forehead was bracing, but everything else felt surreal. Damn, if it still didn’t hurt, though. It might take four tissues.
    Billy rested his hand on her shoulder. “Between the two of you, maybe y’all can fix things.”
    Macy raised her head. “Fix what?”
    “Maybe you could talk to the cops. Anyone but Jake Baldwin—don’t go to him. Maybe they’d listen to you. Ellie’s not like you. She’s too pretty. Men don’t listen to her.”
    Macy was suddenly a frog’s hair away from committing her own murder. “But they’ll listen to homely-looking girls like me, huh?”
    “I didn’t mean that. It’s just she’s blonde and—”
    “Big boobed?” It