When my grandmother died, I knew I had to go back to my hometown and take care of her belongings. I thought I would fix up her house, sell the place, and never have to come back again. Then when I ran into Quinton Lascella, being home started to feel a little normal again. There's always been something a little odd about this place, and I can tell by the stares that I've been getting, that the Wilsons aren't as forgotten as I hoped they would be by now. He says that we have to leave and never look back. He says that nothing I can do to Grandma's house will ever make up for the way she treated folks around here. But there's something I just have to do that has nothing to do with Hazel Wilson or the bloodline I come from, and even though he understands it, he doesn't agree. If home is where the heart is, then why do I feel like I'm in the most danger when I'm here?