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Story: When People Leave

Abby opened the front door with her key.

“I have a master’s degree in psychology and a successful therapy practice,” Charlie said.

“And I’m just an addict, right?”

“Nope…well, yep,” Charlie said.

“I’ve been sober for four years,” Morgan said.

“Which is great, but you stopped maturing back when you started using, so you’re like, thirteen now.”

“Stop!”Abby yelled.“This is not the time; we need each other right now, so hug it out.”

Neither Morgan nor Charlie moved.

“Do it!Love each other right now,” Abby said forcefully.

“Fine, Pollyanna,” Morgan said and opened her arms to Charlie.Charlie moved grudgingly into Morgan’s arms, but instead of hugging, they patted each other on the back like two teenage boys.

“There’s the love,” Abby said, pulling her suitcase inside.“Now I need peace.My referee days are over for anyone who can cut their own food.”She headed down the hall.“I’m putting my stuff in my old room.”

“I’ve got dibs on my old room,” Charlie said, following after Abby.

Morgan’s old room had become Carla’s office, so it no longer had a bed, and Morgan knew none of them wanted to sleep in their mother’s bedroom.

“No worries—I love sleeping on couches,” Morgan called after them.“That’s what addicts do.”

Fifteen minutes later, Charlie came back into the living room.Charlie and Morgan knew this was where their mother had been found, but the thought hung in the air like a ghost.

“What if Mom had a terminal disease and wanted to make sure we didn’t have to take care of her,” Charlie said, picking up her list from the couch.“I think we should go through the calendar on her desk and see if she had a lot of doctor’s appointments.”

“I told you, I’m leading this,” Morgan said.

“Fine, what’s on your list?”

“Number one, ransack the house like burglars and see what we find.”

“That’s how you lead?”Charlie asked.

Morgan gave her a sly smile; she enjoyed annoying Charlie.“Abby, we’re waiting for you,” Morgan called out.“What’re you doing?”

“Resting,” Abby called out from her room.

“We aren’t on vacation,” Morgan yelled back.“Can you please come in here?”

Abby, barefoot and with a blanket wrapped around her, trudged in and plopped down on the couch.

“I don’t get why we have to start immediately,” Abby said.“We just got here; can’t we relax a little?”

Morgan had a twinkle in her eyes.“You should’ve relaxed at home.”

“Hilarious,” Abby said, then dropped her blanket onto the couch.“Well, you got me in here, so what’s the plan?”

“Why don’t we try breaking into Mom’s computer,” Morgan said, heading into Carla’s office.Charlie and Abby followed her.

The office had bookshelves lining the walls, filled chiefly with historical fiction and memoirs of famous people.On the desk was a silver frame with two pictures side by side.The first was a picture of Morgan, Charlie, and Abby when they were eight, six, and four, and the second was a selfie of the four of them taken a few years ago at a restaurant on Carla’s fifty-fifth birthday.

Morgan sat down at her mother’s desk as Charlie flipped through Carla’s calendar, which had a picture of a different national park on each page.