Here's the thing about snakes. You don't step on them, they got no reason to bite.
Hope. A word so close to home, and as tricky. As much as we wanted Jason's killer caught, and the town, our home, to feel safe again. But with every day that passed, our hopes dimmed more and more. There's that old, cliched saying. "It's darkest before the dawn". But sometimes... there's just darkness.
What makes a place feel like home? Is it warmth and familiarity? Some idealized, make-believe TV-version of the American dream? Is it love and acceptance? Or is it simple safety? Or it's none of those things. And it's a place where the captain of the football team is murdered. Or maybe it's just a forgotten closet under a well-trod staircase, where it's just you and the mice and the spiders, like an extra in a Wes Craven movie.
Now, mija. I've done things to upset you. You've done things to upset me. So we're gonna deal with this exactly as your father would like. With a negotiation.
– When my dad got arrested, the police, the lawyers, the judge, the courts, they took everything from us. Our houses, our cars, our club memberships, our yacht, even – I'm not kidding – the clothes off our backs. Anyway, my mom sat me down on the edge of my canopy bed and told me not to cry, because there was one thing in this world that no one could ever take from me. Not ever.
– Your trust fund?
– My name, Reggie. Which, after telling me no one would ever take it, that is exactly what she did. Like it meant nothing. It was nothing. Like I was nothing.