“Because I want to see.” She stood close enough to see directly into my mouth.

“You don’t trust me,” I said, hoping to deter her. But on the last word, she grabbed my face with one hand, squeezing her fingers into my cheeks. She narrowed her eyes and dragged me across the kitchen to the faucet. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew you weren’t right.”

She looked at me like she could see the old Delaney hiding just under the surface, timid and obedient. All that was needed was a dose or two of medicine. I’d be fixed. “I’m not taking it,” I said, and I spit the pills into the sink.

For a second I thought I could see the thoughts run through her head. I could see her holding me down, pinching my nose, forcing the pills down my throat. But she had a better, more effective plan. “You will not leave that room of yours until you take them. Not even for school. I will pull you out on medical leave.”

I sucked in a breath and stared at her. Then I held out my hand, took a new dose, threw the pills back into my mouth, and swallowed dry, feeling the route they took down my esophagus. First, like I was choking. Then, like there was a knot right over my heart.

“You hate me right now,” Mom said. “And that’s okay. I’m okay with you hating me as long as you’re safe. One day you’ll understand that.”

The only thing I understood was that I had never felt so violated. Not when Decker kissed me on a dare, not when Troy grabbed my arm and left a bruise, not even when I sat cowering in the back of a funeral home. Now. With my mother, who I used to trust implicitly. This was the worst.

I threw up in the bathroom. Sad thing is, I didn’t even try. I just stood there under scalding water letting the entire day sink in, from seeing Troy take the woman’s pills to watching that old lady’s house to fighting at the movie theater to hiding in the back of the funeral home to escaping in the car with Decker to Mom forcing pills down my throat—and suddenly I couldn’t keep anything inside.

So I never did take that medicine. But I think some of it stuck, because I got really sleepy. My eyelids were heavy, and I stumbled dizzily around my room. I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to sleep because of Troy. I could feel him lingering outside. I just knew he was watching me. From down the block or behind the bushes across the street or in plain sight in the middle of our road. So I checked the lock on my window. I pulled the shades down tight and stuck scissors underneath my pillow. Every car rumbling down the street sounded like his. Every rattle of the window was him trying to get in.

I fell asleep with one hand on the scissors and woke up the next morning in the same position. It was a miracle I hadn’t hurt myself. Mom threw open the door without knocking, smiling like she hadn’t turned on me the night before. “Phone call,” she said.

“Tell him I’ll call him back,” I said. Because it was either Troy, whom I wouldn’t call back, or Decker, whom I would once I figured out what to say.

“It’s not a him.”

I scrambled for the phone. “Where’ve you been, Delaney?”

“Hey, Janna.” I rubbed the grogginess from my eyes. “What’s up?”

“Just calling to see how you did in precalc.”

“You got your grades?”

“Yesterday. Didn’t you?”

“I’ll call you back.”

I ran down the hall, flew down the steps, and plastered a fake smile on my face just like Mom’s. “Did my grades come?”

Mom was ironing in front of the news. “Yes, honey, they came yesterday.” She still hadn’t looked at me. Not a good sign.

“Well?”

“All As, one B.”

“What? A B? Let me see.” She walked briskly in and out of the office like everything was fine. Maybe Mom’s vision was going. Maybe she was making a joke. But there it was, the curve of the B, a blemish in the uniform column of straight-lined letters.

“I don’t believe it.” I sat on the edge of the couch, my eyes boring into the paper. “I don’t fucking believe it.” She didn’t correct my language.

I walked back to my room, still carrying my report card. I dreaded returning Janna’s call, but if I didn’t, she’d know something was wrong anyway. “I got a B in precalc,” I told her.

“That’s good!” she said after a pause.

I let out a low laugh. “For you.”

“No, Delaney, for you. You almost died. You were in a coma. You still got a B.”

“Uh-huh.”