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But she wasn’t. She was waiting up for me. She scooted over, making room, and patted the bed. I flopped into it dramatically, making her and her stuffed animals bounce.

“Okay. Bedtime,” I demanded.

“K,” she agreed, and I pulled the cord on her bedside lamp.

I waited to pull out my phone until I thought she was snoring. Tilting the screen away from Allie, I turned it on. Still nothing.

If Lacey was grounded, I didn’t want to give anything away.

But if she wasn’t—if she was too busy having fun to get back to me, like I didn’t matter anymore—I couldn’t help myself. I texted:

SOOOOOOO?????

“I can see the light,” Allie complained.

“Because your eyes are open,” I said, and fake-smothered her with a bunny.

I left my phone on vibrate in case Lacey responded. Allie’d already started to toss and turn—I wasn’t sure where all of her was anymore, if the pointy thing in between my ribs was Mr.Snuffles’s nose or her knee. I waited a little longer and then carefully got up, just as I heard my mom’s keys scratching the doorknob.

Oh God.I hustled down the hall, but wasn’t fast enough.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” my mom asked at volume. She wasn’t worried about waking anyone else up—and I saw the light inside Allie’s room flick on, under the doorway.

“I’m going!” I said, and ducked into my room, closing the door behind me.

I flung myself into bed and hauled up my sheets. She was alone, that was something. I could hear her stumble down the hall, two steps for every thump where she leaned her hand against the wall for balance. I knew if I were out in the hallway with her, I’d smell the cigarette smoke and stale beer. My mother, voted ‘Best Bartender!’ of the worst dive bar in Redson, three years in a row.

I listened to her make her way down the hall, praying that she’d pass my room, but no. She paused outside, fumbled with the doorknob, and then leaned in. “You know you mean everything to me, don’t you?” The words were drawn out long with an alcoholic accent I’d come to loathe.

“Of course, Momma,” I said, soft and kind for safety’s sake.

“Good,” she slurred. I made myself small again and waited, hoping that she was done. Emotionally-overwrought-mother was only a few turns of the dial away from verbally-abusive-mother was a few turns of the dial away from the-mom-who-threw-things-until-she-puked. As if sensing my surrender, my mother grunted knowingly then retreated back into the hall, leaving my door open like aventanainto the blackness. If I’d had to bet on what my little sister was having nightmares of, I’d pick her.

I waited, tense, until I heard my mom shut her door, then checked my phone one last time before plugging it in to charge for the night.

CHAPTER 2

Iwoke up in the morning and swung an arm out for my phone, but the only thing it showed was the time: 10:00.

“Lacey, you’re killing me,” I hissed at it. I could hear the sounds of morning cartoons blaring from the living room and stumbled in their direction. My little sister was sitting mere feet from the TV, rapt, spooning cereal into her mouth from a pink plastic bowl.

“Good morning!” she shouted, without turning around.

“Good morning yourself,” I said, scratching my stomach and walking into the kitchen. “Did you leave some for me?”

“Yeah.”

I shook the box Allie’d left on the counter. “Barely.”

“Some,” she corrected.

I poured it out into another bowl and brought it into the living room to eat dry, flopping onto the couch to watch TV over Allie’s head. “You do your homework last night?”

“It’s Saturday!”

“Which means ‘No’, I take it.” I picked some dehydrated marshmallows out of my bowl to crunch on, as Allie purposefully ignored me.

In general, the more stuff we could get done before mom got up the better. You never knew how she would wake—sick or starving, pleasant or pissed. She could’ve gotten a good tip last night (from the residents of Redson, doubtful, but appreciative truckers drove through from time to time) and could wake up in a great mood and take us all out for doughnuts.