After speaking with Martin, Daryl drove straight home.
He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had learned.
Daniel Smith was dead, but if Martin was right about the Blackwoods, they had a much bigger problem on their hands.
By the time he arrived home, the house was quiet. He assumed his parents were already asleep.
But as he stepped inside, he saw his mother sitting in the living room, mending one of his polo shirts.
Marissa looked up, and her face immediately lit up.
“Daryl! You’re home.”
Daryl smiled and walked over to her.
“Why are you still awake? It’s late, Ma.”
Marissa simply smiled and continued stitching.
“I’m not done yet. Besides, I’m not sleepy,” she said.
Daryl sighed and glanced around.
“Is Pa already in bed?”
Marissa nodded. “Yes. You know your father—alwa
