Mr. Harwood runs out for something, then comes back with stuff from the CVS in town.

Mom and Dad sit with me in the downstairs bathroom while I soak in a lukewarm bath. They don’t leave me alone. If one goes somewhere, another stays with me. They don’t try to talk to me.

Mrs. Harwood’s screaming at Rory in the living room. Which would be so satisfying if my skin wasn’t tingling and red all over.

It happened again.

When I get to my room, Mr. Harwood’s ready to rub aloe vera gel and some other shit on me. Mrs. Harwood’s still screaming, and Mom and Dad go to talk in one of the downstairs bedrooms.

“You okay?” he asks.

I shiver from the cold gel on my back.

He sighs. “Jackson…” Mr. Harwood doesn’t say anything.

Rory gets shoved in from the hallway by his mom. “Say it.”

“He has his fucking baby blanket.”

Mrs. Harwood smacks him in the head. “Say it.”

He sighs, like this is too much of a hassle for him. “Sorry.”

She smacks him in the head again. “Mean it.”

Rory’s jaw tenses, and his hands ball into fists. “I’m sorry, okay? I took it too far and…” His eyes drop, and his face relaxes a little. “…I…I didn’t mean to make you freak out.”

His mom grabs Rory’s ear and pulls him out. The stomp down the stairs and out the door.

Mr. Harwood stands. “I’ll be right back, okay?” I nod, and he leaves.

My eyes move to the journal still tucked underneath the mattress. It hasn’t moved since I touched it.

And I grin.

Because this summer, Rory’s gonna get everything he fucking deserves.