Sheriff Walters pats my back awkwardly, assuming I’m crying. But my eyes are as dry as the Sahara Desert. I’m too angry to cry. Angry at myself for being so stupid and taking a random man home. Angry for getting that man killed. A man that is connected to a dangerous family. “Will his family come after me?” “No,” he responds sharply. “That family has a list of enemies a mile long. They’re not going to concern themselves with a random girl. They might look into you, but when they don’t find anything, they’ll start looking into whoever they pissed off.” I nod my head, slightly assured by that. “That is, if they don’t find out about the rose.” My heart sinks like a rock into a well. I lift my head and look at him, catching onto his meaning. “That rose was personal, Adeline. Do you know what it means?” “I... I have a stalker. I’ve made several reports lately about my house being broken into and roses popping up everywhere I go.” The sheriff’s brows scrunch. “T looked into your file. There are no reports made about a stalker.” My spine snaps straight as shock blasts through me. “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice shrill and angry. “I’ve made several!” “Calm down,” Sheriff Walters says, splaying his hands out in a gesture that matches his words. “Ill take a deeper look when I get back to the precinct. Can you tell me now what’s been going on?” Forcing my heart to slow, I relay everything that’s been happening. With the random glasses of alcohol being drunk while I was home alone. The roses. And the notecard with the ominous threat. Sheriff Walters listens tentatively, pulling out a notepad and taking notes as I speak. When I’m finished, I feel even more exhausted than before. “Pll look into it. But Adeline? You understand that if the Talaverra’s find out you have a stalker, they might place blame?” I rear back, completely baffled that a cop is warning me that a criminal family could come after me. But he’s never been one to sugarcoat or hide truths. On several occasions, my dad would ask details about certain things, and the sheriff would always divulge whatever he was allowed to. There were a few times Mom had to snap at the two men for grisly conversations at the dinner table—in front of a child, no less. Sheriff Walters would apologize, but he never actually looked sorry. “Pll do everything in my power to stop that from happening,” he assures. Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better in the slightest.