I got out of the bath. My pants completely drenched. “I’m soaked.”

She waved, her hand and arm covered in bubbles. “Put the robe on. Peter always was the best at planning for any outliers—his word, not mine.”

Just like that, I sobered up.

It wasn’t the outliers word, though it still stung. It was how she said Peter’s name.

She said his name for the first time as if she knew him. It was a window to how they were when they would’ve made me. I hungered for more. I needed more, but I did as she suggested. I shimmied out of my wet pants and shirt, pulling the robe on and then ridding myself of the rest.

I was heading back to the bathroom when there was a soft knock on the door.

A guard was on the other side. “The vehicle will be downstairs at six in the morning.”

Six a.m.

It was so early, but as my throat burned, it wasn’t enough time.

Not nearly enough time.

* * *

We were lounging on the couch.

My mother had gone through half the contents of the minibar, and she was groaning, rubbing her stomach. “I may be in pain right now, but I’m not going to regret this night. Not one bit.” She was grinning, eyeing me. “How about you?” Her eyes grew concerned. “I noticed you’ve barely touched any of the food or drinks all night. You okay?”

Now. It had to be now.

It was nearing eleven, and I knew my mother would pass out within the hour.

I sat up and pulled a pillow to rest on my lap. It felt like a small amount of protection against what was coming.

“I have to know everything, Mom.”

“Bailey.” She sighed. “How about we have this conversation tomorrow? We can get coffee on the way back to the house and talk everything over at Carla’s.”

“Why Carla’s?” She was a coworker, neighbor, and the closest person my mom had to a best friend.

“I’m assuming there’s still damage at the house.” She sat up, moving slow, and got up to start cleaning.

Now she cleaned?

She frowned at the pizza box. “You won’t want any for breakfast?”

I shook my head.

She turned to the door. “I could offer the last few pieces to the guards outside. They must be hungry.”

There was my mother.

She was stalling and evading. She was even avoiding. Let’s throw in some deflection while we’re at it. It was my new favorite word.

I sat there, watching her getting up and starting to clean the room, and I knew I should be the dutiful daughter and help. I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to move from this couch. If I did, I wouldn’t have the courage to keep pressing. She would increase her attempts, asking to cuddle or trying to talk me into watching a movie as she crawled into bed. Either way, we wouldn’t get anywhere, or I wouldn’t get anywhere.

The guards turned down the food, so she shrugged and put the box in the garbage. She rinsed out the emptied little wine bottles and put them in the recycling bin.

All the candy wrappers went in the trash.

She went to the bathroom. I heard her moving around.

Ten minutes or so later, she came back. I caught the whiff of toothpaste and mouthwash as she returned to her perch on the couch.

Seeing I hadn’t moved at all, she raised an eyebrow, then sat. Her shoulders fell down.

“Okay.” Her head bobbed up and down. “Okay, Bailey. I’m all yours. What would you like to know?”

“Everything.”

SEVEN

I never went to sleep.

My mom nodded off around three in the morning; she broke her eleven o’clock rule for me. I stayed up and watched her sleep. I didn’t tell her I was leaving. It was all left in a note, and a part of me felt like a coward. The other part of me knew that if I told her, she wouldn’t let me go. She might have moments where she acted young and carefree, but I knew Chrissy. She would’ve pulled all the mom tricks she had and somehow we’d be going into witness protection later. But I knew her. She would miss Brookley, so I outlined in my letter that, during this time, I would be safe. So would she.

And the other factor: I was going to meet my father.

A shiver of anticipation went through me as I dressed in a set of clothes from that overnight bag they had given me, and bent to kiss my mom on her cheek. She was breathing so steadily, deeply. I brushed some of her hair back from her forehead, whispering, “Love you, Mom.” My voice caught on a sob, and before I could lose my will to do this, I turned and left.

Two different guards were there.

“What? You guys aren’t superhuman? No twenty-four-hour shifts?”

Jokes. Me. My way of distracting from the complete suckage happening.