I had a really awful headache last night. I started complaining about a headache about half an hour after we got into that house. When we got back to Hershel's farm, Dad took me up to the farmhouse to ask for pain medication.

Now, migraines ain't exactly uncommon for me. I get them a lot more often than most kids do. But, before, Dad would just let me stay home from school and lay on the couch all day with a bowl right on the coffee table and cartoons playing on the TV, even if it hurt my eyes too much to actually watch them.

But ever since Hershel's been telling my dad about malnourishment, everything is different. This time, when we went to ask for medicine, Hershel asked me how much I ate all day.

And the answer was nothing. I didn't have breakfast because we got distracted with the whole Randall situation, and around lunchtime, Dad told me to go up to the house and have some crackers... but I didn't. He gave me a glare when he found that out.

Anyway, instead of lying on the couch and watching cartoons, I was forced to sit down at the table and eat a bowl of mediocre-tasting soup. Turns out that not eating enough can make your head hurt real bad. That's annoying.

Because of my headache, I didn't sleep very well last night. And because I didn't sleep very well last night, I am very tired today. Which is why instead of doing the math problems Lori put down in front of me, I'm watching my dad walk off to the shed with my chin resting on my arms. He's gonna beat up Randall, I'm pretty sure.

"June, honey, please do the work I gave you. It's good for you to know this stuff," Lori says, tapping her finger on the little notebook page.

"Can't do it," I murmur, shrugging my shoulder. Long division is what she's trying to have me do. I can't do long division. I can hardly even do regular division.

"Are you ok? Did something happen with your dad?" Lori asks me.

And I know it's bad to do this, but I slam the tip of my pencil down onto the notebook, snapping the tip and leaving an indent on the page. Lori jumps at my sudden movement. "My dad ain't evil, Lori. He ain't," I mutter.

Lori sighs, putting her hand on top of mine. "I just don't think you understand, June. I know you think it's normal, but it isn't," she says. I want to roll my eyes at her, but that's rude and I know better. "Your dad shouldn't be hitting you," she says.

"He doesn't," I say, my jaw locked up tight.

"Carl told me-"

"That was before. He doesn't do it no more," I tell her, biting down on my lip.

"Hon, I just don't think you understand what I mean," Lori says with a look of pity on her face.

I can't stand it no more. My dad is a good person. He's a good person with a good heart. I know he is. I don't want Lori to take me away from him like the cops did. "He's good! He ain't a bad dad! He takes care a' me and he loves me, so you don't gotta take me away from him!" I shout, throwing the pencil down and pushing myself up off the seat.

That was bad, and I know it was, but I couldn't help it. I hate that my dad was bad to me. I hate thinking about it. I don't want Lori bringing it up to me every time I ever look like something's bothering me.

I'm storming off like Carl sometimes does when Shane stops me. "Hey, hey, hey. Where're you goin'?" he asks. Probably because all he sees is me walking quickly towards the shed, where we both know Randall is being locked up.

"To get my dad," I murmur. I didn't realize I was tearing up until now. My voice is wobbly and my eyes are wet. I wipe them dry with my sleeve.

Shane kneels in front of me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "What's goin' on?" he asks me.

"Nothin'. I'm just goin' to get my dad," I say, sniffing away the snot my tears have generated. I try to walk past Shane, but he doesn't let me.

"I can't let you go in there right now, June," he says, glancing back at the shed, and then at me again.

"I know my dad's beatin' him," I tell Shane. Because, well, it's the truth. Dad's beating on Randall right now. Shane and Rick tried bringing him out and abandoning him, but it turns out, Randall knows Maggie, and therefore knows where we are. So they had to bring him back. And now Dad's trying to get answers out of him by bashing his face in. "It ain't right, but I know he is," I say.

Shane sighs at that. "It is right. Your dad, he's doin' what he has to do," he says, running his hand over his head. Dad doesn't have to hurt him, though. He could just ask. Maybe Randall would cooperate if he wasn't so dang scared of us. "If you go in there right now, you're gonna get in trouble. Your dad will get mad, June," Shane tells me. He knows I don't like getting in trouble. He probably knows why, too. But, like Lori, he doesn't know that all of that has changed.

"He won't get mad. He'll understand," I say, even though I'm not 100% sure that it's true. Shane doesn't seem to care. "I gotta talk to him. And tell him it ain't right."

Maybe Dad was right about Shane being a psycho because he's got this strange look on his face right now. His eyes are wide and he looks like he's holding back from saying something. He wipes his hand over his mouth, breaking eye contact for a moment, before looking at me again.

"Look, June, that guy in there- that guy is crazy. He's dangerous and what your dad is doing is what your dad's gotta do," Shane tells me. I think I oughta get Dale's opinion on all this. He is the smartest person I know. "Sometimes, June- sometimes people deserve to get hurt," is the last thing Shane says to me before the door to the shed swings open.

I ain't supposed to be talking to Shane, so I quickly turn away and pretend I was really just looking at my shoes. Dad walks out of the shed, and I'm not looking at him, so I can't see whether or not he's eyeing me and Shane. When I look up from my shoes, I see that his knuckles are all bloody.

Originally, I was gonna say my piece, but now, looking at his bloody knuckles, I'm not so sure I want to anymore. It just makes me feel anxious and panicked, seeing him like that.

Dad puts his hand on my back and starts pushing me to start walking. I look and see that everyone at camp is staring at us- well, probably just my dad. They wanna know what Randall told him. To be honest, I wanna know, too, but I just wish he didn't have to hurt the poor guy.

"Boy there's got a gang, 30 men," Dad tells everyone as we approach. I don't think I'm the only one preoccupied by his bloody knuckles. Carol's staring at them, too. And Dale. "They got heavy artillery and they ain't lookin' to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women, they're gonna-" he drops his hand down, away from my back, "they're gonna wish they were."

"What did you do?" Carol asks him. I knew she was eyeing his hands, too.

"Had a lil' chat," Dad answers.

"No one goes near this guy," Rick tells all of us. And I already know that. My dad and Shane have drilled it into my head by now.

"Rick, what are you gonna do?" Lori asks.

Rick sighs, looking away for a moment before looking back at Lori. "We have no choice. He's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat," he says, his jaw tight.

"What? You're just gonna- you're just gonna kill him?" I ask, my eyebrows pinched together. I sound more whiny than I intend, but I can't help it. It's wrong, killing that boy just because he came from some bad people. Maybe he had no choice. There are other perspectives we gotta look at before making the decision to take his life. That ain't a choice you can take back.

"It's settled. I'll do it today," Rick says before walking off. Lucky for me, Dale goes chasing after him. I start walking after him, too, but before I can get two steps away, Dad catches my arm and pulls me back to him.

"Stop, Dad. It ain't right. I gotta tell him," I say, pulling my arm out of my dad's grasp.

"No. Rick's makin' the choice he's gotta make. Leave him be," Dad tells me, giving me a stern look.

"Dad, it ain't the only choice! There's other choices than just killin' him!" I say louder than I meant to. Maybe I was even yelling.

"We can talk about it, but I ain't havin' you yellin' at me, so you best watch your tone, girl," Dad warns me, his voice tough, like he means it. "C'mon," he says as he takes my hand and starts pulling me off towards our tent, so we don't gotta have this conversation in front of everyone else.

When we get to the tent, Dad takes a seat on one of the little logs we've got out around the firepit. I cross my arms and sit across from him. "Killin' that boy is wrong and you know it, Dad," I say, making my voice firm and strong.

"He ain't a boy. He's a grown man. It ain't like we're killin' some innocent kid, June," Dad tells me, rubbing his eyes like he's exhausted of me.

"He didn't do nothin'!" I argue, accidentally letting myself shout again.

"Yes, he did, June. He's a bad man who's done bad shit, and if we don't kill him, he could go back and tell all the other bad men where we are, and bad shit will happen to us. To you. We ain't got another choice because we're tryna keep you safe," Dad tells me, making his face all serious. I huff because I get what he's saying, but I still can't agree with killing that guy just because of where he came from. I think Dad can tell that I ain't convinced because he sighs and says, "You remember what I said 'bout your momma?"

And, yes, I do remember. So I nod. "Yeah. You said her boss was a bad person, and that's why she killed him. But it ain't the same with Randall, 'cause he wasn't shootin' at 'em. It was only the people he was with," I say.

"Your momma killed that man because he hurt her, and he told her that if she tried tellin' someone, he'd hurt you, too. That's why she killed him. She coulda risked tellin', and risked him hurtin' you, but she didn't. She had to get rid a' that risk, so that's what she did," Dad explains to me.

I've never heard this part of the story before. I never knew that Momma's boss said he'd hurt me. I just knew that Momma was protecting us. That's all Dad has told me. He usually hates talking about it. It makes him mad. He always says that Momma doesn't deserve to be in jail. He calls it bullshit every single time he talks about it.

"Same thing with Randall. We could risk him goin' back and gettin' his guys- risk them comin' back here to hurt you and everyone else- or we could get rid a' that risk. So that's what we're gonna do. We're gonna get rid of it," Dad tells me. I think he's right, really, now that he's explained it this way. "Now, I don't wanna hear it anymore. You understand me?"

I sigh, huffing out a frustrated breath. It feels wrong, but I understand it. It's right and it's wrong at the same time. "I understand," I murmur, digging my toe into the dirt.

"Now, what were you talkin' to Shane about?" Dad asks next. Oh, boy. So I guess he did see that. "Thought I told you not to talk to him. Twice."

"He was talkin' to me. I was comin' to get you. He wouldn't let me," I explain. I'm sick of getting in trouble just for simply being around Shane. At least I ain't getting spankings no more.

"When I'm in that shed, you wait until I come out to talk to me. What were you comin' to get me for, anyway?" Dad asks, raising his eyebrows.

There were two reasons I was going to get him. One was because I wanted him to stop beating on poor Randall. The other was because I wanted to get away from Lori because she was acting like he's a bad person again. He ain't bad. I know he ain't, in my heart.

We already discussed the Randall situation, though, so I take a deep breath, calming my nerves before saying, "I told Carl you hit me... and he told Lori and now Lori thinks you're bad to me. She was askin' me about it. I didn't know what to do."

At first, I think Dad's gonna get really mad at me. He stares at me for a moment, and I can see his anger in his eyes. But then he looks down at the ground and chews his lip, like he's thinking really hard. After another second, he looks at me again. "I'll deal with that. Ain't somethin' you gotta worry 'bout," he tells me.

He didn't get mad at all. I can hardly believe that. He ain't mad. I snitched on him to Carl and he ain't even mad at me for it. Lori thinks he's a bad dad because of me and he ain't even mad at me for it.

"Go check on Beth or somethin'. I'll talk to Lori," Dad says, ruffling my hair as he stands up. I nod and he walks off.

I'm gonna show Beth the new stuffed animal I picked out. I think she'll like it lots. It's a fox stuffed animal and it's very cute. So I grab both my fox and Nicki out of the tent so I can go see Beth. Just as I climb back out of the tent, though, I jump. Carl's standing right there, and I didn't hear him coming.

"I'm sorry. Did I scare you?" Carl asks, raising his eyebrows.

I laugh a little, even though I am a little bit embarrassed. "It's ok," I tell him. I put Nicki and my fox down on the logs around the firepit. "What're you doin' over here?" I ask him.

"I'm gonna go see Randall. Do you wanna come with me?" Carl asks me. And that is not what I was expecting him to say at all. I expected him to say something like, oh, my mom said to give you this math homework and help you with it. But no.

"No way, Carl. We're not supposed to go over there. Your dad said, and my dad said, he's dangerous," I say, shaking my head adamantly.

"Well, he's all tied up. He can't be that dangerous if he's tied up," Carl reasons, shrugging his shoulders.

"No. He is dangerous, even when he's tied up," I insist. I understand that Randall's dangerous now, even if I feel unsure about executing him. "Plus, we'd get in lots of trouble."

"Oh, yeah," Carl murmurs, breaking eye contact. "I forgot your dad..."

"He ain't like that no more. But it's still stupid," I tell Carl.

Carl huffs out a sigh, looking at the shed, and then back at me. "It's ok. You don't have to come. I'll just go by myself," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"I just told you, it's dangerous, Carl," I say, shaking my head again.

"It's ok. I'll be fast. Just don't tattle on me this time," Carl says before running off towards the shed.

And, oh boy, I have no idea what to do now. I can't go with him to make sure he's ok because that'd put me in danger, too, and then we'd both be in danger. But I also don't want to snitch on him. I already did that once, even if he already got found out before I told. But this is different. It's not just him stealing something. It's him putting himself in danger.

It doesn't count as snitching when someone's in danger, right? Maybe Carl would appreciate it if I told on him. Maybe he'd be mad at first, but then he'd understand. I can't keep secrets. I'm such a tattle tale. But I can't let him do this. I just can't. It makes my stomach hurt, just thinking about it.

Carl is gonna be so mad at me. I know it. But I run off toward the shed anyway. As I get closer, I see that Shane is out front with Andrea. Dang it. I'm not supposed to talk to Shane. All these rules are all too confusing when you put them all together. This has got to be an exception, though, because Carl could get hurt.

"Shane! Andrea!" I shout, running up to them. They both furrow their eyebrows at my panicked state. I take a second to catch my breath after all that running, leaning my hands on my knees.

"What's wrong, June?" Andrea asks when I don't say anything fast enough.

"Carl- he-" I take another breath. I'm a bad runner. "He wanted to sneak in to see Randall. I think he's in the shed right now," I admit to them. Shane's eyes go wide with anger and Andrea's mouth opens slightly.

Before I know it, Shane is flinging open the doors to the shed furiously.