Parker had been less confrontational, and while he was never overjoyed to see me with Logan, he was civil. He had even apologized, offering to pay for the damage to Logan’s car. It wasn’t necessary—Logan had told his parents he’d been a victim of random vandalism—but he had appreciated the offer. They’d shaken hands and that had been that. We had a quiet Thanksgiving at home with my mom’s notoriously bad turkey and famously good sweet potatoes. Parker and I worked together on the stuffing. Afterward, I drove to Logan’s house for a low-key dessert with his parents. The more time I spent with them, the more I liked them, and I found myself avoiding them despite the fact that they were always warm and welcoming. When I was alone with Logan, it was easier to shut everything else out, but that was a lot harder to do while looking into Warren Fairchild’s haunted eyes, watching Leslie touch his shoulder reassuringly as she passed by. The Saturday after Thanksgiving I put on my new jeans and a slouchy sweater and headed to Selena’s house.