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She ended the call before Julianne could reply.

‘Shit,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine. I was kind of expecting it at some point.’ Brooke threw the phone down on the bed. ‘My parents always pit us against each other. They’ve obviously convinced Jules that she needs to play the responsible older sister.’

‘Do you think she believes you?’

‘I think so.’

‘Okay,’ I said, not totally convinced. I wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to Brooke back home to make her so determined to run far, far away.

‘Jessie, are you sure you don’t want to call your mom?’ she asked gently. ‘Or anyone else?’

I shook my head. ‘Not yet, no.’

‘If you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure.’

She sat upright again. ‘Do you want to get out and go for a walk? We’re only a couple blocks away from an outdoor mall.’

‘Sounds good.’

I watched Brooke pack up the few things she needed, then fell into step with her as we walked out of the motel.

It was getting close to sunset, and the heat was finally starting to die down as we wandered through the mall. People were spilling out of a sports bar showing several games on huge screens, or juggling small children and ice cream and strollers.

‘There,’ I said, pointing to a little deli that caught my eye. ‘That’s what I want to eat.’

‘Works for me,’ Brooke said easily.

The cost of bread and olives and a cute little charcuterie box was at least double what we usually spent on an evening meal, but I didn’t care at all. We had topped up our stash of cash and there was absolutely nothing fried in the paper bag I carried out of the store and over to one of the colorful picnic tables set up in the square. That felt like avictory. I still couldn’t figure out how Brooke had the diet of a three-year-old and managed to stay so slim.

‘Metabolism,’ she said around a mouthful of bread. ‘And soccer.’

‘I’m jealous.’

‘You could always join a soccer team.’

‘I don’t think any team would take me. I’m too short for soccer.’

‘Have you seen the high-school team?’ Brooke stabbed an olive with a tiny fork and popped it into her mouth. ‘We have a couple wannabe Megan Rapinoes, but most of us just play for fun.’

I couldn’t imagine playing soccer for fun. That sounded like torture to me.

A few other families seemed to have had the same idea as us, and had picked up food from one of the places around the square to eat at the picnic tables. It all seemed very wholesome, like this was exactly the type of thing the city government wanted to encourage. If I looked up an advert for Kansas City, it would include me and Brooke, sitting at this bubblegum-pink picnic table, fighting over the last olive.

Brooke swung her legs off the bench and got up. ‘I’m going to use the restroom,’ she said. ‘There’s some right behind you.’

I glanced over my shoulder. ‘Okay.’

‘I won’t be long.’

I nodded, and packed up all the wrappers while Brooke was in the restroom, dumping them in one of the trashcans, then picking another bench to sit and wait at so a family could take over our picnic table. I stretched my legs out and rolled my shoulders.

It had taken us just under a week to get to Kansas City, so Brooke’s initial estimation of getting to Disney World in ten days was going to be out by at least a few days. I already knew I wanted to stop in Nashville, and we’d probably need to make an overnight stop in Atlanta, too, before making the final push down to Orlando. That would mean Brooke didn’t have to drive too much every day, and we could still enjoy some of the cities along the way.

I saw Brooke walking out of the restroom, so I turned around to shoulder my backpack before she got to me.