Текст книги "Paper Thin"

Автор книги: Jennifer Snyder

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“DON’T LOOK AT ME like that.” Emma’s voice, equal parts exasperation and embarrassment, met my ears. She didn’t sound like my sister at all. “I hate it when you look at me like you feel sorry for me.”

I was in the hall, listening to Dawson and Emma’s private conversation even though I shouldn’t. It wasn’t intentional. I went to the bathroom and overheard a little bit, which caused me to freeze. From the sounds of it, their dinner date didn’t seem to be going well.

“That’s not what you’re seeing,” Dawson countered. “I don’t feel sorry for you, Emma. I just hate seeing you feel sorry for yourself.”

My sister made an awful sound in the back of her throat, and I knew she was getting ready to unleash on him. “I have every right to feel sorry for myself! How dare you tell me any different!” Her words were bitter and harsh, unlike anything I’d ever heard come from her.

I held my breath, wondering what Dawson would say in response. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew he had to be falling apart. No one could handle my sister’s wrath when she was this pissed. I knew that better than anyone. My throat clenched as my lungs burned for more air, but I couldn’t breathe yet. I was afraid I would miss what he would say next.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t feel sorry for yourself. I said I hated seeing you feel sorry for yourself. There’s a big difference.” His rich voice traveled down the hall to me, causing goose bumps to prickle along my skin from the emotion trapped within it. He loved her still. Why couldn’t she see it? That was what he was trying to convey. I understood what he meant. Why didn’t she?

“Then don’t.” Her words were crisp and clear. So was her meaning, even before she continued. “No one is forcing you. You’re free to leave anytime.”

I couldn’t believe the words left my sister’s mouth. They were so cruel. So cold. For the first time in my entire life, I wished my mom would walk out of her bedroom and break this conversation up. Too bad the new medication she was on caused her to sleep through the night.

God, this entire dinner looked as though it had backfired. I assumed Emma would have been excited at the thought of having dinner with Dawson, but she didn’t seem any more enthusiastic about him coming over than she was to go to physical therapy. I hated it for them both. I had seen how she looked at him before the accident; he was the light of her life. I wondered when she would open up and let him in again. Seeing her in this funk for so long was rough on me, and I knew it had to be even harder on Dawson. Her permanent frown was so foreign to us both.

“You know that’s not what I want. It’s not going to happen, no matter how hard you try to push me away,” Dawson replied. I didn’t wait to hear the rest of their conversation. It felt too intrusive.

Instead, I crept back down the hall toward my room. After making myself comfortable on my bed again, I attempted to focus on my laptop screen once more. Sadie had worked her magic with my professors and gotten them to agree to allow her to email me notes and assignments for the time being. I was grateful, because it allowed me to finish out my semester, but knew this wasn’t something I could continue to do, not if I planned on staying here to help Emma recover and adjust, and help with Mom.

Pinching the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb, I pushed away the debate I had been having since my talk with Sadie earlier today. I was coming to a crossroads, one where I would be forced to decide whether I went back to Bradley University and my old life in the dorms, or stay in Parish Cove to take care of those I loved. With the way Emma was acting, it didn’t look as though I would have much of a choice in the matter. She needed me, whether she cared to admit it or not.

I turned my attention back to the crap I was doing for my introduction to managerial accounting course, and forced myself to finish what I had been working on.

“Knock, knock.” The door to my bedroom swung open an hour later. Dawson poked his head into my room, while his body remained shielded behind my door.

“Hey,” I muttered. A yawn escaped me. I closed my laptop and rubbed my eyes.

“How’s it going?”

“Okay.” I stretched my legs out in front of me, trying not to wince from how stiff they felt. “I think I’m done for the night.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Actually, I should be thanking you for the interruption. You saved me from a hellacious headache.” The beginning of one was pulsing above my right brow.

“Good.” A sad smile broke onto his face. “At least I know I’m good for something.”

I hated the sad and defeated look on his face. “Why do you say that?” I knew why. I remembered the bits of his and Emma’s conversation I’d overheard.

“Because I’m failing when it comes to getting your sister through this.” His hand left my door to run through his hair. The door swung open, revealing the rest of him. His cargo shorts and plain gray T-shirt made him look so laid-back, but I knew he was wound tight. We both were. Seeing Emma bitter and angry was not something either of us were used to.

“No, you’re not.” I shook my head, and slipped off my bed to move toward him. “You’re doing the best you can. She’s in a really bad spot right now. The doctors said it could take a while, remember?”

He released a long exhale and brought his blue eyes to meet mine. There was hope swirling in them. I was so grateful to be the one who had put it there again. “You’re right.” He flashed me a small smile. “You didn’t have to stay in here. You were more than welcome to join us, you know.”

“I know. I just figured the two of you would appreciate a little time alone together.”

“We did. Sort of.” His face fell again.

“Things will get better.” The words sounded stale in my mouth. I’d said them too many times, to both him and myself. I wasn’t even sure I believed them anymore.

Something passed over Dawson’s face, making me wonder if he felt the same. “Listen, I wasn’t sure if you ate yet, so I made you a plate in the kitchen. There’s also beer. If you want one.” He surprised me by saying.

“I already ate, but a beer sounds nice. Thanks.”

“Mind if I stay for a bit, and have one with you?”

“No, not at all.” Tension pulled at my insides as the moment became awkward. “Where’s Emma?”

“She went to bed. Said she was tired.”

“Oh. Okay.” The desire to make sure she was all right flared deep within me, but I fought it, knowing nothing I could say would make Emma feel better. If she was pissed at Dawson, she would prefer to stew alone. She’d made that clear before.

“So, how about that beer?” Dawson rocked on his heels, and crammed his hands into his front pockets. “I could use one right about now.”

I laughed. “Me too.”

“After you.” He motioned for me to move past him into the hall.

“Thanks.” I flipped my bedroom light off as I slipped by him. Unable to help it, I glanced at my sister’s door. It was closed, and there didn’t seem to be any lights on. I would have to talk to her tomorrow. See what she said about the dinner date. Maybe I would mention what I heard.

Once we reached the kitchen, I headed straight for the fridge. I pulled the door open and grabbed two beers. They were just my type, dark and full-flavored. I handed one to Dawson. “Wanna sit on the bench by the fire pit?” I asked as I popped the top off mine. I didn’t want Emma to hear us talking, in case the conversation shifted to her and how worried we were about her.

“Sure.”

I gripped the handle to the back door, and carefully opened it without making much noise. Again, I felt like I was sneaking out of my house, fearful Mom would catch me. My heart thundered in my chest, because this time I was sneaking out with Dawson tagging along, and beer. All the sudden I felt as though I was doing something wrong. Would Emma be pissed at me for this? Friends. That was all Dawson and I were. She couldn’t be mad at that. Right? We were two friends having a drink while talking about her. Crap. Maybe this wasn’t right.

“Has she been pushing you away lately?” Dawson asked. I knew where his question was going.

“A little,” I admitted as I stepped outside, and started toward the fire pit. The night was cool, which was rare for this late into July. Lightning bugs were already out. The sight of them had memories of chasing them with Emma when we were little flashing through my mind.

“Me too.” Dawson sat on the edge of the bench, leaving loads of space for me. I was glad. It made this situation feel less wrong if there was an ample amount of space between us. I sat, and the bench didn’t seem as long as I remembered.

“She’ll come back around. Her doctors are sure of it.” It was all I knew to say.

“Are you though?” Dawson’s eyes narrowed on me. I could see my pain and heartache reflected in his stare. “Because I’m not sure I am.”

“I don’t know.” I tipped my beer up and took a swig, unsure I could handle having this conversation.

“I keep waiting for her to snap.” He leaned forward, until his elbows were resting against his knees, cupping his beer between his palms. “I don’t know how she hasn’t yet.”

“Me either.” It felt like a relief to say the words out loud. I would have freaked out the moment I learned what had happened.

“Has she mentioned how she feels being in a wheelchair now?” His question threw me off.

“Not really. I mean, I know it’s frustrating for her having to learn new ways to do things that used to come easy for her before.”

“I mean future things, not just the right now stuff.”

I blinked, unsure as to what he was talking about. “What future things?”

His gaze dropped to the beer bottle in his hands. I watched him, waiting for him to continue, as he flicked the peeling label with his thumb. “Driving, walking, kids…future stuff like that.”

“No.”

“Well, she did tonight. Apparently, she’s worried she might not be able to have kids. She hasn’t asked the doctors yet. There’s a shit ton of things she’s worried about actually.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Everything I thought and felt about the situation involving my sister and the accident changed. Suddenly, things clicked for me. I’d been stupidly trying to help her through the day-to-day tasks, not realizing that wasn’t where my sister’s mind was. It was on the future, thinking of all the things she had always hoped and dreamed of for herself before she became an L 1, 2 paraplegic.

“Emma really wanted to be a mom.” My words were strangled as they left my throat.

“I know.” Dawson sounded as upset about it as I did.

We fell into silence as both of us thought about how great a mom Emma would be while we sipped our beers.

“What do you think?” I asked once I couldn’t handle the silence any longer. “Do you think she’ll still be able to have kids?” I was hoping for a smidge of assurance from him.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

My insides felt crushed by his words; my thoughts darkened. I took another sip of my beer, thinking of Emma and how badly I knew she wanted to be a mother.

“She can’t feel much of anything from her belly button down. Did you know that?” Dawson interrupted my thoughts. “She told me the feeling fades from there down.”

Did I know that? Had she mentioned it to me or to one of her doctors and I’d overheard it? Maybe she mentioned it to Charity once before while in my presence? I wasn’t sure. Either way, the statement caused icicles of panic to slip through me. I knew she wasn’t going to walk again, the doctors had made that clear, but I never let all that meant sink in until now.

A tear slipped down my cheek. I whipped it away before Dawson could see, and took another swig of my beer. “Was that what the two of you were talking about tonight? Kids?”

“Our future.” He nodded. His hand reached around to rub along the back of his neck. “She doesn’t want me hanging around anymore. Said I deserve someone who’s whole.”

Anger was quick to burst through my insides. I was pissed at Emma for thinking of herself that way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dawson shrugged, and shifted his eyes to lock with mine. There was a glimmer of sadness reflected there. One I could relate to. “She doesn’t want me to waste any more time with her. She thinks this is too big of a change for us to work through.” His voice shook, and I noticed a single tear slide from his eye. His gaze dropped to the fire pit. “She thinks I need to move on. Said she’s glad we aren’t married yet.”

“No.” The word pushed past my lips. Nothing more came, because I was lost in my head, trying to figure out why my sister would push Dawson away. The desire to stalk inside, and demand she give me an explanation burned through me.

He loved her. Couldn’t she see that?

“I can’t though. I still want to marry her.” His lips twisted into a sad smile. “I need her. I love her.”

“I know you do.” I erased the space between us, and wrapped my free arm around him, pulling him into me for a hug. “She knows you do, too. Things will be okay between the two of you. I’m sure of it.”

“God, I hope you’re right.” He sniffled.

I released him. “She just needs a little time.”

“I can give her that.” He wiped beneath his eyes, erasing the final signs he had lost himself for a moment. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown my issues with her on you. You’ve got enough going on right now.”

“I don’t mind. Really.” I smiled. “It’s nice talking with someone else about everything who feels pretty much the same as I do about the situation.”

“It is.” He lifted his beer. “Cheers to having each other to lean on while we help Emma cope.”

“I can toast to that.” I raised my beer to meet his. “Cheers.”

Sitting beneath the night sky—one that was too hazy for us to see any stars—we finished the remainder of our beers and talked.

My mind shifted between things I could say to Emma about what Dawson had told me, ways I could make her see that just because she wasn’t able to walk didn’t mean she wasn’t worthy of his love. I also compiled a list of questions to ask the doctors at her next appointment. If she would still be able to have kids of her own was one of them.

“I DON’T THINK HER new medication is working,” I confessed to Sadie. She and I had talked nearly every day since I moved home. It was a tough decision to make, but in the end, I decided Emma and Mom needed me more than I needed school.

School would always be there; Emma and Mom wouldn’t.

It had taken me almost a week to get over the fact I had officially made the move. Knowing I would be waking up in my old room everyday was strange. At least it didn’t look the same as it did when I was younger. Emma had long ago gotten rid of my lime green walls and painted them a soothing shade of sophisticated sage. I was grateful I had little to move. There were a few boxes of toiletries, desk stuff, books, and knickknacks. The bulk of my stuff was shoes and clothes. There was one large piece of furniture I’d bought, a cheap bookshelf Dawson helped me move into the house. He also helped rearrange the room so it would fit near the desk.

He was hanging around more often now, refusing to let Emma forget he was here for her. She didn’t seem to care. The news she would never be able to give birth to children had crushed her. After learning that, nothing had seemed to matter to her. Seeing her so broken was hard.

“Is she eating much yet?” Sadie asked. She knew how worried I had all become about Emma’s lack of appetite. At her last appointment, the doctors mentioned to me they might be forced to hospitalize her if her next visit showed she lost more weight.

“No.” I braced myself for what I knew Sadie would most likely say next.

“Are you waiting until her next visit, or are you planning to call and let the doctor know now that she isn’t improving?”

“I don’t know.” I hated to call. It made me feel as though I was admitting I had failed Emma, that I couldn’t get her to heal. Instead, I had let her sink further into her depression. “Maybe she just needs more time.”

“When’s her next appointment?”

“Three months.”

“Char, you need to think about calling. What if in another three months she’s gotten worse?” Sadie was always the voice of reason. It was part of the reason why she was my best friend. “Maybe you and Dawson should sit down and discuss it together, that way it won’t seem like it’s you making the decision alone.”

I liked her idea, but I also hated how inept and young it made me feel. Emma was my sister. I should be able to make these decisions on my own. Then again, Dawson was her fiancé. It only seemed fair that he have a say.

“He will probably be over tonight for dinner.” I swatted at a mosquito, and scratched where it had bit my leg. The only thing I hated about summer in Parish Cove was the bugs. “I guess I’ll bring it up sometime before he leaves.”

“I really think you should,” she reiterated. “It’s time.”

My eyes shifted to the back door of the house, where I noticed movement. Carla was standing there; a small smile twisted her round face. It must be four, which meant it was time for her to leave for the day. My time to myself was over. At least until tonight when everyone was in bed.

“I need to get off here.” I sighed. “Carla is leaving.”

“Okay. Oh, hey, wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember Johnny from Black Bash?” Sadie asked. “The one who liked you?”

“Um. Yeah.” How could I forget? Not only was he hot as hell and our chemistry off the charts, he was also part of my before. Before I answered the phone call that changed my life forever. “What about him?”

“He asked about you the other night.”

My lips twisted into a smile, even though I wasn’t sure why. Nothing could happen between the two of us, not with me living in Parish Cove. “What did he say?”

“He wanted to know how you were doing, if you were coming back.” I could hear a hint of a smile in her words.

“And what did you say?”

“The truth.” She sounded as deflated as I felt. “He said he would love to catch up with you though, if you ever decided to come for a visit or whatever. He wanted me to give you his number.”

I wouldn’t be coming back. Not anytime soon. “I don’t want his number.”

“What? Why not?” She was shocked. I wasn’t sure why though.

I buried my face in my hands. “Because I’m not coming back anytime soon. There’s no point in getting his hopes up or having him wait. No point in even talking to him really, not if I know we probably will never see each other again.”

“So that means you’re not coming back to visit me either?”

“I didn’t mean that. I just don’t see the point in trying to start a relationship with him. Besides, I have too much on my plate to focus on one more person. I can barely focus on myself right now.” My words came out in an exasperated puff of air.

“Wow. Glad I know how you feel about being here now. I didn’t realize it was holding you back in all aspects of your life, or that you felt spread so damn thin.” Emma’s voice startled me. She was behind me. I hadn’t realized she was even outside.

Even though there was hurt weighting her words, anger was the only thing reflected in her eyes.

“Emma, I didn’t mean…that’s not what I said,” I fumbled. She wasn’t supposed to hear any of that.

“Oh shit. She heard you,” Sadie gasped in my ear.

“I really need to go, Sadie.”

“No. Don’t hang up with her. Continue talking about how being here with Mom and me has prevented you from focusing on yourself and your dating life. Please, by all means, don’t let me stop you from having your pity party. We all know you have so much to bitch about.” Emma rolled away, leaving me with my cell still pressed against my ear, and my mouth hanging open.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Sadie said, before I heard the click of her hanging up.

My arm holding my cell dropped to my lap. I continued to stare after Emma, shocked by her harsh words. That wasn’t what I said, and it damn sure wasn’t what I meant. Was it? Did I truly mean she and Mom were holding me back?

Maybe.

But it wasn’t either of their faults. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. I squeezed my eyes shut, worried what she had heard would send her further down the dark, twisting spiral of depression she was on.

“Emma, wait.” I bolted from where I was sitting, and darted across the yard. Once she made it to the ramp the church had built off the kitchen and inside the house, she would head straight for her room and lock the door. It was how she spent most of her days now, especially the bad ones. “Emma. Please stop.” I moved to her side, fighting the urge to block her path. It would only piss her off more if I did, so I remained where I was.

“What?” She paused, and glanced up at me. It was still so strange to see her looking up at me. She had always been a few inches taller than me my whole life, and now that the roles were reversed, I couldn’t get used to it. Even though it had been months since the accident occurred. “Are you going to take the words back? Try to backtrack, and tell me you don’t feel trapped here now?” Her hazel eyes were like daggers piercing me with enough force to slice me in two. The anger swarming around her was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. This wasn’t Emma, but it was who the accident had turned her into.

Her anger twisted my guilt, turning it into something I shouldn’t feel—irritation. “I was venting, Em! That’s what people do when they’re under a lot of stress from something.” My mouth snapped closed after the words left my mouth. God, I wasn’t making this any better.

A cruel smirk twisted my sister’s face into someone unrecognizable. “You’re under a lot of stress…really? What about me? Don’t you think I’m under a lot of stress? You have nothing compared to the weight of what I’m dealing with on your shoulders.”

How could she say that? Didn’t she realize she wasn’t the only one this accident affected? “I never said you weren’t under a lot of stress.” I threw my hands up in frustration. Nothing I said would make this better, and I was growing more pissed by the second. “What I said was that I was venting to Sadie—”

“Right. I know,” she cut me off. “Because having to be responsible for someone other than yourself for once in your life is too much for you to handle.” She scoffed.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I knew what she was implying, but I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted to hear her say how much I sucked at being there for her and Mom.

Emma’s eyes narrowed on me. “Exactly what I said. You’re having a hard time taking care of someone else besides yourself for once. You’ve always been the selfish one. I don’t know what I was thinking when I thought you might be able to shove your self-centered tendencies to the side for once.”

“Wow, really?” I felt my eyes widen and my brows reach my hairline as her words washed over me. Then hurt settled in. “Is that really how you see me?”

“That’s how it’s always been, Char. Don’t pretend it hasn’t. And don’t be pissed at me for saying so.” There was no emotion attached to her words, but they hit me in the gut, hard and fast.

“Since we’re being so fucking honest with one another, let me enlighten you a little as well.” My hurt had turned to pure rage at the lack of emotion in her words. I needed to control my anger, but couldn’t. I was seeing red. “Maybe I am a little selfish in wishing none of this happened, because then I would be back at school working my ass off to get my business management degree and giving a guy I just met, whom I might have a decent shot at a relationship with, the time of day! I’m not going to apologize for that, because I’m human!” I took in a deep breath, not even remotely done with what I was saying, but gaining enough air to continue. “Then again, maybe I’m not selfish, because I am here after all! I dropped out and walked away, didn’t I?”

“And what do you want for it? A cookie? A trophy?” Her tone irked me to no end. I wanted to slap her. “It took me nearly dying for you to finally decide to stick around and help out. You should have been here from the beginning, helping out on weekends or something with Mom. Anything. Instead, you left all of that on my shoulders.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “You think I was okay with that? You think I didn’t realize how shitty it was of me?”

“You sure didn’t act like it.”

“I was scared, Em. I didn’t like seeing Mom like that.” I drew in a deep breath, glad to finally be getting this part out, to admit everything to her. “I still don’t. You seemed as though you had it under control. You stepped right up and took care of her without so much as a second thought.”

“Because I had to!” she shouted, still angry with me. “You left me no choice!”

“You didn’t complain though. You acted like you had everything under control, same as always!”

“Did you ever ask? Did you ever think I was faking it?” She shook her head, and shifted her gaze from me as though she couldn’t bear to look at me anymore. “I was as scared as you were in the beginning. God, Char, the way she acts sometimes still scares me, but I can’t let it get the best of me. I had to be strong because my mom needed me to, and because my baby sister needed me to even more.”

I blinked. “What?”

All anger I had toward her evaporated. It was gone in the span of a heartbeat at her admission.

“I’m not as composed and accepting of everything as you think. Not with Mom.” She sighed. “And not with all this, as you can tell. I’m at my breaking point, Char. I can’t handle this. It’s too much. Mom was enough, but now this? How am I supposed to go through life like this?” Tears tracked down her cheeks. She looked at me, her hazel eyes brimming with pain. It scared me.

“You have to.” My words were hesitant, soft, and full of emotion. I felt as though I was begging my sister to keep going, like I was pleading for her to continue with life. I couldn’t stand seeing her so broken by her circumstances any longer.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one bound to roll yourself along for the rest of your life in a damn chair. I’ll never be able to walk again, never be able to stand up to put on pants, and I’ll never be able to drive my stupid car.”

“Stop.” I didn’t want to hear all the things she couldn’t do. I wanted her to focus on being here, on being alive and breathing. That was what the old Emma would have done. She would have been grateful she had survived the accident. Period. “Stop looking at all the things you can’t do. Focus on what you can.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t twist this on me. If you get to vent, then so do I.”

I looked away from her, unable to bare the emotions reflected in her eyes. They terrified me. “It’s not venting to you. It’s something else. It’s wallowing. You’re torturing yourself with what happened.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Her arms flew up into the air, drawing my attention back to her. “I can’t have kids, Char. I’ll never be able to know the joy of giving birth. What if I can’t even enjoy sex? Who wants someone who only lies there and doesn’t feel a damn thing?” Flecks of spit flew from her mouth and into the air. Her anger was hitting a whole new level. “Hell, I can’t even feel when I need to take a shit anymore, because nothing from my belly button down feels like it’s there!” Her rage was excruciating. At me. At the world. At herself. She didn’t have to say the exact words for me to know. It was written all over her face and displayed in the wild look darkening her eyes.

I didn’t know what to say, how to remedy this, or how to make her stop. Maybe I shouldn’t do anything. Maybe I should let her get it all out. Maybe this was when she would finally let go, accept the way things were, and come back to me. Maybe this moment would break her hard enough so she would finally surface from the depression she had been drowning in.

“You think you have so much stress. How could you be the one carrying it all when you’re not me?” Her chin dipped forward, and I swore I could see all the fight in my sister seeping from her in the form of big, fat crocodile tears.

I hated seeing her this way. This wasn’t who she was. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I really am, Emma. Not for any selfish reasons you might think I have, but because you’re my sister, and I can’t stand seeing you have to go through this. I can’t stand to think of all the pain you’re in every single day.” Her head lifted, and she looked at me. “I see the faces you make when you think no one is looking. I hear the grunts of frustration beneath your breath. I see the pills you stack into a pile in the center of your palm and cram into your mouth before you think I’ve seen. I know you don’t want to let me know how much pain you’re actually in, but I see it anyway. You might have thought you were hiding everything from me, but I’ve seen it all, Em. I know this is the hardest point in your life, but you have to cut me some slack because it’s hard for me too.”

Silence surrounded us when my mouth closed. Neither of us were willing to speak to break it. I didn’t know what more to say, and I was positive she felt the same. For a moment, I thought we’d said all there was to say. Until Emma decided we hadn’t.

“I know it is.” Her voice quivered when she spoke. “Trust me. I know it is. That’s why I want you to put Mom in a home.”

The words came at me, nearly blowing me over with their weight. Had I heard her right? “What?”

“You heard me.” She wiped beneath her eyes with the tip of her index finger. “I want to put Mom in a home. It’s time. It’s too much right now. Neither one of us can look after her the way she needs.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said.” She sighed. “That was before. Things are different now, and she’s not getting any better. It’s getting worse. It might not seem like it, but I’ve been paying attention. I’ve already started looking into a few places for her actually.”

When had she found the time to do that? Was that what she’d been doing while locked in her room for hours on end? “You have?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to two. I’ll call tomorrow and set up appointments to check them out. If we’re going to do it, I want to pick the best.”

“Okay.” Relief trickled through me at the thought of not having to worry about our mother anymore. It was soon replaced by shame, because what kind of daughter was I for thinking such a thing?