Stalking the postal delivery truck had become a pastime. It'd become so much of a habit, my mother started letting me know when he was here. And I knew in her heart she counted on Byron's arrival just as much as I did. She hated that I was still receiving mail from an unknown possibly psychotic stalker. But there was nothing to be done.

I'd sit at my bedroom window—sometimes even the living room window—with my face pressed to the glass, my jaw ticking, and my fingers drumming in sync against my thighs. And the second he could be seen, I'd race his truck to the mailbox, always anticipating some form of mail in my name. Like now, for instance. I feared that if I blinked, I'd miss him. It'd spooked Byron the first few times, but he'd have to excuse my behavior for now.

"Tyler! The mailman's here!" Junior's announcement echoed from downstairs. My eyes narrowed down the street, where Byron was driving at minimum speed. I cheered under my breath, then bolted down the stairs.

"Thanks, Junior. You're the best!" I shouted whilst barreling out the front door. Officer's Baring and Delaney were used to my antics by now. So, when I rushed past their patrol vehicle, they hadn't told me to return back inside the house. I skidded to a stop in front of the mailbox just as Byron climbed down from his postal truck.

"Anything for me today?" My question came out in a heap of short breaths as I kneeled in front of him. I gripped my knees tightly, my legs quivering to my toes.

"Hmm, no. I don't see anything. There's something for your mom though," Byron said, pulling out a thin stack of envelopes. Looked like a bunch of bills. Nothing of interest to me.

"Darn it," I muttered, tilting my head up. Robert's house was in my line of view. The empty driveway caught my attention. "Hey, did you see our neighbors?"

"Your neighbors?" Byron's lips curled down.

I nodded to the house. "They live in that house over there. Tall guy with a brooding face and two kids. That rings a bell?"

"Oh, you mean that single father that lives over there across the street."

I snapped my fingers. "Yeah! Them."

Byron nodded, humming through sealed lips. "Looks like you just missed them. I think they headed out a few minutes ago. They were dressed in all-black like they were going to a funeral."

Surely enough, that got my attention. What was today? How long ago was it that Christian, Logan, and I ran into Yasmine and Nina? I seethed through gritted teeth.

"Shit. Loretta's funeral is today," I whispered.

"Sorry, what? Did you say something?" Byron watched me with curious eyes, his face twisted in endless confusion.

I bit back a groan. "No, sorry! Thanks, Byron. I've got to go. Catch you tomorrow!"

"Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day, Tyler." Byron climbed back into his truck, the smoke blinding me from his engine as he pulled off. I ran back into the house, locking the door behind me.

"Anything?" I heard my mother's voice from the living room.

"Nothing." I sighed loud enough for her to hear.

As I skipped back up the stairs, two steps at a time, I removed my phone from my pocket, then halted. What time was it? If Loretta's funeral was about to start (or already started), would Christian pick up my calls? Dammit, probably not. I wanted to get in touch with him now. But I'd have to wait. Patience, Tyler. I rubbed my face and flopped down on my bed. The older I got, the more I realized patience wasn't my best virtue. Nonetheless, I waited.

Ten minutes turn into twenty. Twenty minutes turned into forty. Forty minutes turned into an hour. By then, my eyes stung from having stared at my phone screen for too long. Finally, my long awaited wish was granted. Just as I began to doze off, Christian's voice lit up the room. I heard my mother's voice and the house door closing in suit.

"Hey Jen, how's everything here?" Christian's question was faint.

"Could be better," my mother answered honestly. "You talk to your father lately?"

"Yeah, he mentioned driving to Lake Bellinor—" I blocked out the rest of their conversation until I heard Christian heading up the stairs. There was a brief knock on my door. "Tyler?" I ran up to the door, throwing it open.

Christian flinched, startled. "I take it you've been waiting."

"Yeah, come in." I shooed him inside, closing the door behind him.

"Geez, hello to you too."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey. Okay now, tell me about the funeral. I'm dying here," I exaggerated.

"Have a seat first." He pointed to my bed and squatted down on the edge of the window sill. I nodded and sat criss-crossed on my mattress. He sighed and mumbled to himself, "You're going to need it, I promise you."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "How was the funeral?"

"Boy, where do I even start?" He massaged the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the floor. "A shitshow, for starters. And I don't mean the funeral itself."

"I imagine people didn't take too kindly to you and Logan showing up. . ."

Christian shrugged. "Sure, let's go with that. You were right. Most of the residents we had a hard time locating attended the funeral. Needless to say, they weren't all too calm when they found out we were there to question them. Panic ensued immediately."

I involuntarily swallowed a deep breath. My eyes were like lasers on him, showing him he had my complete focus. "Robert was there, wasn't he?" I asked.

"Who?" He frowned.

"Our new neighbor. The guy I told you about."

Christian's face lit up. "Robert Watson?"

"Is that his full name?"

"Appears so." Christian nodded. "Turns out he's a widowed father to two kids. His wife died in a car accident a few years back. They met when he served in the marines a couple of years after the group home's closing. He's spent most of his adolescent life in juvie followed by group homes due to extreme anger issues."

I whistled loudly. "Sheesh."

"He's not the only one. Yasmine Pines and Nina De Leon are the two women we met in the police station. Yasmine and her brother, Mark Pines, are an interesting pair."

"Interesting?" I echoed.

"Yasmine recognized us from the first time we met. And she was on the defensive again. Makes me wonder what kind of person she is when she snaps."

"You think she's suspicious?"

"Maybe. Tension and grief were already running high before we showed up but Yasmine's reaction to us being there set the bar. No one's that hostile unless they have something to hide."

I suppose he was right.

"Logan pointed out how Mark fit the typical older brother role. But we noticed throughout the interview that he wasn't just protective. He was ready to step in for sister at all costs," Christian added.

"I'm sorry, I'm not following. . ."

"See how I'm protective of you and Junior?" Christian raised an eyebrow.

"Sure." I shrugged.

"Level that up to one-hundred. Mark acted like we were already pointing fingers and he was prepared to take the fall if needed be. It was a natural dynamic for them. I could tell." My first thought was okay? I didn't understand why or how that'd raise any concerns. My mind changed, however, remembering my recent vision.

"He was just like that in my vision too," I voiced aloud.

"What?"

"I had a vision the other day. That's where I learned more about Mark. His demeanor towards his sister hasn't changed a bit if what you say is true." I picked the skin around my fingernails.

Christian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyebrows pinched together as if he was deep in thought. "Well shit. If that's the case, do any of these other names sound familiar to you? Adam Hayes—"

"That's the man I bumped into at Mr. Jefferson's diner," I cut him off.

"And his husband?"

"Lucas Huxley," I filled in, nodding, "Junior and I bumped into them in the supermarket recently. Actually, that day . . . Lucas is the reason I had that vision."

Christian hummed, "Okay, keep talking. . ."

"Come to think of it, might Lucas have a record too?"

"Not that we know of as of yet. Why do you ask?"

"Nina taunted Lucas in my vision. She mentioned him having a history of petty theft. It's the reason he was in a group home. His parents kicked him out. I think he has a little bit of a temper too. Also a neatfreak apparently."

"A temper?" Christian scratched the growing stubble around his jaw. He rotated his neck, trying to get rid of the crook slithering down his spine. "What makes you say that?"

"Something happened between him and a few of the other residents." I snapped my fingers. "A boy named Joel Cano! Nathan Narvaez was there too. And Adam. Just everyone."

"You met Joel Cano? And Nathan?" Christian's eyes bulged. "What about Courtney Hyde?"

I nodded eagerly. "They were all there. In my vision, I mean. Fiona. Reggie. Kane. Robert. Yasmine. There was even a guy named Sterling—"

"Sterling Taylor," Christian's breath hitched.

"Great!" I clapped. "So, you've met them."

"Not all of them. Joel Cano and Courtney Hyde were no shows at the funeral."

Just like that, my excitement simmered down. Christian jumped off the window sill and scooted close to me on the bed. He flattened his palms on my mattress, talking slowly, "Tyler, I need you to tell me everything. You understand me? Don't leave any details out."

"Okay, okay." I raised my hands and started from the beginning. As I listed off everything that happened in order, Christian was attentive. He nodded along with every word I said. By the end, he was silent. All of his jumbled thoughts spilled from his face as it contorted through several different emotions.

"Lucas' temper isn't like Robert's from what I've seen. But when I felt his anger . . . his resentment, I just knew he was capable of snapping. Wait. Hey, are you even listening to me?" I scoffed when I noticed Christian staring off into the distance again.

"Were Yasmine and Nathan the only two dating in the group home at the time?" he blurted.

I frowned. "What? Sure, I guess so. It didn't seem like Adam and Lucas were a thing yet. They were barely even friends, I think. What does that matter?"

"It matters because Nathan is dead. And so are his friends. It sounds like Fiona, Reggie, Kane, Nina, Yasmine, and whoever else was running in the same crowd."

"Okay and?"

"A king and a queen." My brain was still slow on the uptake. Christian rolled his eyes and continued, "A king and a queen are a romantic pair. Nathan and Yasmine were a romantic pair. Not married but involved. Close enough, right?" I finally understood where he was going with this as I processed his words.

"The chess pieces!" I gasped.

Of course. Why the hell didn't I think of that?

"Exactly." Christian snapped his fingers.

"But if Yasmine's the queen . . . doesn't that make Nathan the king?"

Christian nodded. "And someone wanted the king dead first. I met up with Tanya again recently and it turns out our buddy Nathan wasn't so squeaky clean either."

"What do you mean?"

"Nathan's parents shipped him to a group home out of state. He was accused of attempted murder. One of the residents in his previous group home claimed Nathan threatened them with a knife. But the claim was dismissed. So, he never received proper punishment. He was removed from the group home as a result, and that's how he ended up in Lake Bellinor's group home."

My fingers twitched. It was subtle but unnerving as a swarm of alarming thoughts rushed through my head. That blog post about Lake Bellinor's Group Homes closing was washing over me like a tidal wave, cold and strong.

Was Nathan a tormentor? He acted like the big guy in charge. He pulled the reins and called the shots. He snuck into Adam, Lucas, and Joel's room, and held a pair of scissors to Joel's throat. All in the name of his girlfriend and his friends.

If he was willing to go to that extent for something so minor, what else was he willing to do? Obviously, he's gotten away with it before. Who's to say he wouldn't get away with it again? Right under the counselor's noses. Maybe even right in front of them. Neglect wasn't a thing of the past with facilities like group homes, and Lake Bellinor definitely wasn't the exception. As the blog, about the final incident that caused Lake Bellinor's Group Homes closing, so kindly put it.

"I don't think Yasmine was too fond of her boyfriend or her friends either." Christian's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "She said something when we interviewed her at the funeral. Something like I'm not proud of the things I've done, the person I was, and the people I surrounded myself with back then. This better puts things into perspective."

I hesitated, "But . . . doesn't all of this mean Yasmine is the next target?"

Christian fell silent for a moment. Then, he hissed, "Shit."

That sounded a lot like yes to me. There was one major problem: She backed out of filing a report. Therefore, there was no stalker. She damn sure wasn't going to warm up to Christian and Logan anytime soon, I didn't think. But they needed her now more than ever and she just might need them if someone planned on striking her next.

I dragged my sweaty palms down my legs. "What's your plan B then?"

"We need to locate Joel Cano and Courtney Hyde." Christian stood to his feet.

"Then what?" I copied his movements.

"This is currently an ongoing open investigation and everyone is officially a suspect. Looks like our group home residents are going to have to stay in Lake Bellinor a little longer than intended." His dry laughter met my ears and it was the most menacing thing I'd heard today. Because I knew that laughter meant business.

But most of all, that meant everything was out in the open. Everyone had to know Fiona, Kane, Reggie, and Nathan were dead. One of them did it. And one of them was next.