The moon hung high as Cleo steered the skiff, her face cold and focused. You sat beside her, clutching the knife that had ended the man who killed JJ—his own father. The memory of his laugh, his cruel words—“I just needed the blue crown thats all”—burned in your mind

Cleo stopped the boat in the middle of the sound. Together, you lifted the tarp-wrapped body and the anchor over the edge, the splash cutting through the silence

“No body, no crime,” Cleo muttered, watching the waves swallow him

JJ was gone, but his father wouldn’t hurt anyone else. It wasn’t enough, but it was justice