"I didn't," Trystan says.
"I saw her go up the stairs," I say. "And I heard her in Braden's room, but when Trystan and I went in there, she was gone."
"What about Jackson?" Brock asks me. "Did you hear from him last night?"
I pause before answering, thinking I should lie, but they already know we're dating so I might as well tell them.
"We went out," I say. "After the game. We drove down to San Diego and had dinner. Jackson wanted to stay out later but I wanted to get home. I knew Miles and Kade would tell everyone I was dating Jackson and I wanted to get home and deal with whatever was going to happen."
"I'll tell you what's gonna happen," Braden says, racing up to me. "You're gonna dump Novak and never speak to him again!"
"Braden, stay out of this," Brock says, coming over and yanking him away from me. "Leave her alone."
Braden shoves him. "Why the fuck aren't you punishing her for this? He's the fucking enemy! And a murderer!"
"He didn't kill her!" I yell. "Stop saying that!"
Brock gets in front of Braden, his eyes narrowed. "What did I say?"
Braden looks down, shaking his head, his jaw moving side to side.
"WHAT did I say, Braden?" Brock asks.
He still doesn't answer.
Brock grabs Braden's shirt in his fist and yanks on it, pulling Braden up to just inches from Brock's face. "Repeat back to me what I said earlier."
"Dad, let him go," Trystan says, sounding panicked. He thinks Brock is going to hit Braden like he did after Andrea's death.
Brock ignores Trystan, his eyes zeroed in on Braden. "Tell me what I said."
Braden swallows. "That I'd have to go live with Mom."
"If you what?"
"If I do anything to Novak," Braden says, looking away.
Brock slowly lets him go, a smirk crossing his face. "Good boy."
Braden yanks his shirt down, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, looking at his dad like he's about to kill him. If he had a gun nearby, he probably would.
"I'm going to my room." Braden turns to leave.
"We're not done here," Brock says.
Braden turns back to his dad, nostrils flared, his hands balled into fists. "What the fuck do you want from me? I didn't fucking do it!"
"Regardless," Brock says in a calm, even voice. "We need to prepare. There will obviously be an investigation, and since the three of you knew both the suspect and the victim, we need to prepare for what's ahead."
"Just get your lawyers to deal with it," Trystan says.
"The lawyers can't be with you every second of the day. When you're at school. Out with friends. You need to keep your mouths shut. You don't answer questions. You don't bring it up. You keep quiet. Understood?"
Trystan and I nod, while Braden just stands there, his arms crossed.
"Braden," Brock says. "Do you understand?"
"Yeah. Whatever." Braden glances at me. "But why does she get to keep going out with Novak? You want us to distance ourselves from all the Kristen shit, why are you letting her date the guy who killed her? The cops are gonna be all over that. Questioning her and then us."
