Dad sat in the farthest corner, and I sat beside him. He wrapped an arm around me. There was no way I would let anyone else take my spot. Kina was beside me, then Angela, then Mom, who was in the other corner. We looked like the Addams Family. Dad looked like Gomez in his crisp black suit. There were three Wednesdays--Kina, Angela, and me. My braids were draped over my shoulders. I wore a button-up shirt with the buttons fastened all the way to the top, a crocheted black sweater, and a black dress. Angela's hair was braided as well. She wore a shirt and skirt. Mom looked like Morticia with her long, black hair flowing down her back. She wore a V-neck, floor-length dress.

The pews were crowded. It seemed like the entire community was packed into the church. There was no personal space for anyone. We sat shoulder to shoulder, leg touching leg, foot touching foot. A lot, and I mean a lot, of people crammed into the corners, some even stood along the walls as well as the back of the church.

Was the building over-capacity? This was probably Kina's bright idea. She had lured the whole neighborhood in here to throw suspicion off her real target--me! She probably had paid a hit man. She could have bribed the crack head up a few blocks from here to set the church on fire from the outside. It wouldn't take long for us to burn. We would all die from smoke inhalation, or from being crushed to death, or from the deadly flames.

I began to hyperventilate while surveying the room, making sure I didn't miss any potential exits. Dozens of lighted candles spread throughout the room. That little bitch. I should have never underestimated Kina. She was going to kill us all, even herself, to get rid of me. What was the point? If Kina wanted to die, why not kill herself and get it over with? Things could end right there. Why drag me through it? Was Kina that much on a power trip?

Or maybe Kina, cunning and manipulative Kina, had no intentions of killing herself at all. If something didn't make sense, it probably wasn't going to happen. I bet right before the fire would start, she would make an excuse to leave. The waterworks would start and she'd excuse herself, or she'd lie about having to use the bathroom. The second Kina did that would be the second I would convince Dad to follow her. His life was worth saving. Anyone else would have to save themselves. Well, I guess I better save Angela, too. She never did anything to me, but Mom could kick rocks. Maybe she was already in on the fire plan.

I glanced at Kina. Looking straight ahead, she wore an evil grin. The only people who could see her were the preacher and the pallbearers, maybe even the gospel singers. Kina had completely lost it. She was getting bolder by the second.

I glared and glared at Kina's evil grin. Franco was the nicest guy I had ever known. He wouldn't hurt a fly. How could she be so proud of killing him? How long had she planned his death? There was no way that day was just a coincidence. Kina had to have thought of a plan of making sure Mom was in a good mood to let her tag along with us. Kina had to have paid the teenager to run over Franco and leave the scene of the crime, so the police couldn't question him. If the cops had done a thorough investigation, they would've found out the teenager and Kina knew each other. Even though he was in high school and she was only in elementary, there had to be a connection somewhere. Kina was too smart to leave a trace, so the police would have to dig deep.

I noticed Kina spying on me out of the corner of her eye. When she caught my eye, her smirk turned into a frown, as if she had to pretend to be sad because her cover was blown. Kina was quite the actress. When she turned her head to face me, there were tears in her eyes. To stop myself from punching her in the face, I grabbed her hand. She gasped when I squeezed her hand too hard. I squeezed tighter and tighter and thought I heard her bones pop. Her eyes became wide and round like balloons, but she sat there, speechless and motionless. She didn't even try to get free. She just kept looking down at our connected hands.

No fire.

We lived.

After the ceremony, at the gravesite, my family and I sat in chairs under the tent while extended family and Franco's friends from school stood around Franco's casket lifted up on metal planks. Green turf surrounded us. Vases of flowers were at each corner of the tent. The community filled the cemetry, some even had to stand by the gates because it was too crowded. I sat between Dad and Angela. The grass was green, and the sun shone brightly. If I wasn't surrounded by dread, I'd say it was a beautiful day.

I regretted not sneaking Franco's Ravens hat with me. I could have thrown it inside his casket, so he'd feel more comfortable. Oh my God, what had I done? I should have fought Mom harder to let him wear his favorite outfit. He looked so stuffy in that suit and suffocated with that tie around his neck. He wasn't comfortable, and it was my fault.

I broke down and cried. Dad wrapped his arms around me. I tried to calm down but I couldn't. Even though my eyes were closed, I could still see Franco. Instead of wearing his suit and tie, he wore the clothes he wore the day he died. He was bloody all over, and his clothes had tire marks running up and down his chest. My breath caught in my throat. His eyebrows were furrowed in anger.

Everyone else disappeared. Franco opened his eyes. He sat up and looked right at me. His eyes were gray instead of his normal brown color. He asked, "Loren, were you in on it?"

"In on what?" My voice trembled.

"On my murder."

I put my hand over my mouth in shock. Did Franco really think I was capable of that? Did he really think that of me?

"Never." I swallowed a knot in my throat.

Franco got out of the casket and wobbled towards me. After getting down on his knees, Franco caressed my cheek. His fingers were cold. "Then you know what you have to do. You have to torture Kina until she feels sorry for what she did to me."

"I can do better than that. I'll kill her for you."

Franco grinned. "That's my perfect little dancer."

That's my perfect little dancer. I never thought I'd get to hear those words again. Then Franco disappeared in a flash of white light.

I woke up in the back of Dad's car. A headache had formed, so I rubbed my forehead. Dad sat in the driver's seat, looking out the window. He held the car keys in his hand. He turned around. His eyes were puffy, but he smiled a weak smile.

I stared at him, blinking rapidly. When had I fallen asleep?

"You feeling okay?"

I sat up and nodded. "What happened?"

"You fainted during service."

My cheeks flushed red. "What?"

"You fainted under the tent, so I carried you to the car. Do you want water?"

"No, I don't need water. I fainted in front of all those people." I mumbled, "How embarrassing?"

"It's understandable."

My heart sank to the depths of my soul. "I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye to Franco because you were taking care of me."

"There's no other place I'd rather be."