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I nod. I find answering him in some way makes him move on, and the quicker he goes through the motions, the quicker he leaves.

“The Scarecrow . . . is he still there?” he asks, something he has never done before.

It’s a question I have been asked since being home, mostly by Noa. Valli mentioned it once but quickly dropped it.

“Still here,” I sign, because Cipher opened his big mouth when Seth arrived, telling him I could communicate through sign language. If I knew it would be this big of a deal, I never would have revealed that secret. I quite like nodding and one-word answers; it feels safer.

“But under control?” he asks.

“He is mine, not the other way around.”

Seth is quiet for a moment while he writes something in his notepad, then he smiles. He writes something else, then rips the page from his book and hands it to me.

You don’t need to see me again unless you want to.

I look at the words, and then at Seth, who holds my gaze. The rest of the session goes much the same way; he is happy with my nods and one-word answers, though occasionally he asks me to sign my answers.

He stands when the session is over, and we shake hands. It’s a weird feeling being so, might I say, civilized. This is new to me, but I am doing this for Valli, Cipher, and Noa. They deserve someone they can be proud of.

Seth picks up his briefcase, slips his notepad inside, and clips it back up. We walk outside together, where the island is fairly quiet at this time of day. As we get closer to Nixie’s office, voices filter toward us. I recognize Nixie’s firm tone straight away, and the other one is Evan, who came to the island with Seth under the pretense of handing over my final discharge letters.

They are both standing in front of her office, Nixie with her arms crossed and her chin tilted up, a sure sign she is not budging on whatever they are talking about. Evan has his hands at his sides, but then he reaches out and puts his hand on her. She rips her arm back, and something inside me clicks.

I cross the path, and when I reach him, my hand closes around his throat.

Evan goes completely still—he is no idiot, but he must be stupid if he thinks he can put his hands on her. Nixie is my family; no one touches her.

His hand comes up and grabs at my wrist, but this isn’t my first rodeo. He won’t be able to remove my hand unless I release it. He can’t touch her, not if she doesn’t want him to.

I lean in. “What happens to the hand that touches what the Scarecrow protects?”

“Cave.” I go still at the sound of her voice. “Cave, look at me.”

I stare at Evan for a moment, but I can see her in my periphery. She has her hands on her hips, and she looks mad.

“Drop the doctor, Cave.”

I release my fingers, and Evan gasps for air as he steps backward, lifting both hands to his throat. I smirk at him, and he turns to Nixie, waiting to see what she does next.

“I think you should deliver the paperwork to Vincent and let him handle the rest.”

He picks up the folder he dropped, looking back at Nixie. “The paperwork is in order.”

I walk to Valli’s side; she looks up at me, moving her hand from her hip and putting it on my chest to stop me from pulling her into my arms. “Are you okay?”

I nod, but she holds my gaze for a moment longer. When she moves her hand, I turn my back and walk to the cornfield.

I stay in my empty field all night.

Noa came past at dinner time, and when I refused to leave, he went back to the house but told me to come home when I was ready. I nodded, and that seemed like enough. He didn’t come back, and neither did the others. I don’t want to slip back into the old me. I know what I did was wrong, but he protects us. Maybe I have to be okay with that part of myself.

The night passes, and I sit with my back against the post, bare earth around me, almost missing the Christmas trees. Someone has already done a lot of the hard work, as the soil has been turned, ready for the new corn to be sown.

The soil is cold under my hands, and I dig my nails in, feeling the earth grounding me. The Scarecrow is quiet and has been since the facility. It could be the medication they have me on, the sessions with Seth, or it could just be that I finally feel like I deserve the people in my life, that I am safe with them. But yesterday proved he is still there to protect them when I need him.

I reach into the bag of kernels and take out a handful. Standing, I move to the closest section of tilled earth and press one into the soil, covering it, then move on to the next. The sun rises, and I keep planting. While I know I can’t do it all by hand, I can do the first perimeter around the post.

I burned this field to the ground, stood there and watched it all go up in flames. I didn’t want anything if I couldn’t have her, and I thought I had crossed a line I could never come back from. The fire may have taken the crop, but it didn’t take the soil. It has changed and become somewhere things can regrow. And while it may not be the same, it has a chance to be better.