Penelope stared at the open door, her heart racing as she tried to figure out what to do. She looked back at the others, at Lyla, Beth, Henry and Liam, all still circled around the table. Henry shrugged with indifference. Beth and Lyla, also parents, shared pitying looks of understanding. Liam, however, appeared to be in shock. He and Penelope shared a silent, wide-eyed look.

If her dad was really so determined to take her away from Ridgestone... Would they ever see each other again?

Penelope set her jaw. No.

She wasn't going to let it happen like this.

Leaving Liam staring after her, Penelope ran out and chased after her dad.

As she raced down the porch steps, she scanned the area for her father. She had hoped that once he got outside and some fresh air into his lungs, that would've calmed him down a little. But he was nowhere in sight. The only sign of him was the door to their cabin hanging open as if he had been in such a hurry he couldn't even be bothered to close it.

She rushed forward, heading for it.

"Dad!" she called out as soon as she got in the door. "Dad, where are you?"

He didn't answer. But Penelope heard rustling upstairs, in the loft. She ran further into the house, into the living room, and looked up.

Just as he said he would be, her father was packing. He blindly shoved things into his duffel bag, not even folding them or even looking to see what they were.

"Dad!" she called again.

He didn't bother to look up. "Go get your things, Penelope. We're leaving as soon as we're packed."

"No, I—I want to talk about this! Can you please just stop for one second?"

Her father did not stop.

"We don't have to leave right away," Penelope pleaded. "It's not like the Raven is going to walk through the cabin door and snatch me up. We can talk first."

Her father kept packing.

Penelope huffed. "You're not even looking at what you're doing! You're packing the cabin's towels—those aren't even ours."

Finally, her dad paused, looking down at the fluffy white terry cloth towel in his hand, already halfway in his bag. He pulled it back out, balled it up, and threw it on the ground... Then went back to packing.

"Why won't you listen to me?" Penelope snapped.

"Because nothing you can say is going to change my mind!" he said, rounding on her. "As long as you're in danger here, then we can't stay."

"But I don't want to leave!"

"Penelope, it's you it's after! You!" her dad shouted, swiping his bag off the bed. It sailed across the loft and landed with a dull thud, its contents tumbling out onto the floor. "Why would you want to stay?"

"Because I want to know!" Penelope screamed back.

Her dad startled at her outburst and then froze. He blinked at her as if he had suddenly come out of his single-focus daze.

Penelope used the opportunity to finally say what she wanted. "I want to know," she repeated. "It's all I've ever wanted, ever since... Ever since mom died. You know that."

Her dad regained his senses. "But you already have plenty of good evidence. Isn't that enough? Why put yourself in danger for—"

Penelope shook her head. "It's not enough. Not anymore. I thought I was satisfied with those little clips, those scraps, but I'm not. Not after Daevon took everything from me. I need something more, something concrete, something certain. And now I finally have the chance! So, I can't leave now, not when I'm so close."

Her dad frowned. Though his frenzy had subsided, he didn't look any more willing to change his mind. "I know, honey. But... it's not safe."

"You keep saying that," Penelope said, shaking her head. "But you don't know!"

"Neither do you," her father retorted. "I know you're all caught up in it now, but what if something happens to you?"

Penelope scowled. She wanted to tell him nothing would happen to her, but...

"We just need some time away from this place, okay? Maybe we can come back later, in a few weeks, after everything has calmed down and—"

"You can't make me leave," she snapped. She hadn't wanted to resort to this, but her father was leaving her with no choice.

Her dad froze again, then turned to look at her over the railing. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm eighteen," she said, straightening up to make herself look confident, though she didn't feel like it. She had faced ghosts and monsters, but she had never done anything as scary as this before—openly defy her dad. "And I don't need your p-permission to stay."

"Penelope," her dad said, frowning like he didn't believe her. He thudded down the loft stairs, to where she was waiting below. "You've got to be joking."

"I-I'm not," she said, swallowing back the large lump that rose in her throat. "If you want to go, then go. You can take the truck and I'll find my own way back. I've got more than enough money to pay for a flight." Even though her YouTube career had recently imploded, she still had a nice chunk of her ad-revenue money sitting in the bank.

"That money is supposed to be for your future," her dad said, narrowing his eyes. "For college."

College. Penelope wanted to laugh. The idea of a normal life, of going off to college in the fall, seemed so far away. That had been her plan a few years back, but when her YouTube channel started taking off, they had discussed pushing off enrollment for a year or two. Now, she had no idea what she wanted to do. "A ticket isn't that expensive. There will still be plenty left."

Her dad stared her down.

Penelope stared back. She felt the chill of sweat dripping down her back and her hands shook, but she held her ground.

"Well?" she asked, trying very hard to keep her voice from shaking. "What's it going to be?"

"I'm not leaving here without you," her dad said.

"And I'm not leaving."

Her dad stared at her for another long moment, then his shoulders sank. He approached Penelope and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin, prickly with stubble, on the top of her head. "Then I'm not leaving you alone."

Penelope hugged him back. "Thank you, dad."

"I just... I don't want you to get hurt," her dad said, his voice shaking again.

"I won't, Dad," Penelope said, but as she said them, the words felt hollow.