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He won’t tell me what he did. It’s been hours and he says we can’t leave which is weird because we’re always leaving. That’s all we do is leave places. He has always said that we have to keep moving so that the bad people don’t come.

“They’ll take you away and we’ll never see each other again,” he always says.

I used to be terrified of never seeing him again but now all I want to do is get away from him.

He walks up behind me and clamps a hand down on my shoulder. Dark red flaky stuff covers his fingernails. He didn’t rinse away all the blood.

Whose blood?

The words are like a whisper inside my brain that won’t go away.

I should say something. Make him rinse again. But I don’t. Maybe if he goes out where all the people are someone will see it and tell on him.

“Get away from there,” he says.

I shrug his heavy hand away and fold my arms across my body. “No one can see me.”

“You don’t know that. You have to listen to me. It’s the only way to stay safe.”

But I’m beginning to think the only way for me to stay safe is if the bad people take him away.