I stand outside my parents' house with Estella, and I know my mom is watching us through the slit in the curtains.

"I don't like not going with you." Estella places her hand on my chest, but she won't look up at me.

We got here a couple of hours ago, and I explained to my parents why she needed to be kept safe. They, of course, didn't blink an eye, and Mom started cooking the second we walked in the door. They had plates of food out and the guest room already set up, and we crashed for a few ...