MY HUSBAND THOUGHT ABANDONING ME AND OUR DAUGHTER IN THE FREEZING FOREST WOULD TEACH US A LESSON. HE DROVE AWAY LAUGHING, CERTAIN WE WOULD EVENTUALLY CRAWL BACK AND APOLOGIZE. BUT AFTER A NEAR COLLISION FORCED US OVER A GUARDRAIL, I PRESSED MY TERRIFIED DAUGHTER INTO THE MUD AND ORDERED HER NOT TO MOVE. THE ENGINE WENT SILENT. A CAR DOOR OPENED. THEN FOOTSTEPS STOPPED RIGHT ABOVE US. WHO HAD FOUND US IN THE DARK?

Leo’s head snapped toward me as my silhouette blocked his high beams.

"Claire?" he said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Where the hell have you been? Where is Valerie?"

He opened his car door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder, adjusting his leather jacket, his face twisting into his familiar posture of arrogant authority.

"Look at you," he sneered, taking a step toward me. "You look like a homeless person. What is that filthy coat you're wearing? Get in the car before someone drives by—"

He froze mid-sentence.

The moonlight caught the dark, matte-black steel barrel of the 12-gauge shotgun as I brought it up, resting the stock firmly against my shoulder, aiming the sight directly at the center of his chest.

CLICK-CLACK.

The heavy, mechanical rack of the pump-action echoed off the trees like a crack of thunder.

Leo staggered backward a half-step, his foot catching on the gravel, his face going completely white under the white glare of his own headlights.

"Claire..." he stammered, his voice suddenly losing every drop of its smooth confidence. "What... what is that? Where did you get that?"

"Hands on the hood, Leo," I said. My voice was completely flat, devoid of anger, devoid of fear. It was the voice of a judge reading a sentence.

"Claire, are you insane?!" Leo yelled, his hands flying up into the air, trembling violently. "Put that thing down! It’s a gun! You don't know how to use a gun!"

"I spent six summers on my grandfather’s farm in Virginia, Leo," I said, taking two slow steps forward until the barrel was four feet from his face. "I know exactly how to use a 12-gauge. I know what a 00-buckshot load does to a man’s torso at point-blank range. Hands. On. The. Hood."

Leo swallowed hard, his jaw trembling. Slowly, awkwardly, he turned around and pressed his palms flat against the warm, white hood of his Audi Q7.

"Valerie!" Leo screamed into the dark woods. "Valerie, help me! Your mother has lost her mind!"

Valerie stepped out from behind the pine tree.

She wasn't crying anymore. She stood tall in Ray’s oversized hunting boots, wrapped in the canvas tarp, her eyes cold as flint as she looked at the man who had thrown her into the mud three hours ago.

"She hasn't lost her mind, Dad," Valerie said, her voice steady and clear. "She just found it."

"Valerie, tell her to put it down!" Leo wept, his arrogance completely dissolving into pathetic, high-pitched panic. "I came back for you! I was worried about you!"

"You came back because you wanted to see us crawl," I corrected him softly.

I reached forward with my left hand, opened his driver’s side door, and reached into his center console. I pulled out my leather handbag, my cell phone, and his heavy leather wallet.

"Valerie," I said without taking my eyes off Leo. "Get in the passenger seat. Turn the heater on high."