brother have been calling for you. They all want to see you, but your father is too angry. Why do you set him off, Leah? That only makes things worse. He’s furious that you disobeyed him. Why did you go back to that hospital?”
There was silence as she waited for the reply I refused to give.
“It’s all right if you don’t talk,” she continued in a patiently weary tone. “I’ll do the talking and you can listen. I went to my second meeting. You’d be proud at how I spoke up. We don’t use last names there, so I just introduced myself by my first name and admitted that drinking is a problem. I thought it would be so hard to say those words, yet I did it. And you know why? For you. So I can be strong enough to help you.”
She paused, as if waiting for me to reply.
“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me. Please, say something.”
“Go away!” Flinging her off, I pressed my face against the pillow.
Then I slipped away into the silky darkness under the blankets, not knowing or caring when the room stilled with silence. I escaped into the sweet oblivion where no one could call me Leah.
I dreamed of my little sisters.
Cherry, Melonee, and Olive were playing hide and seek. They ran through the house, hiding from me. I looked under beds, behind furniture, and inside cabinets. I could hear them giggling, but I couldn’t find them. I shouted their names, panicking. I tore apart cushions and ripped into walls. If I could find them, everything would be okay …
Fear gripped me so tight that I woke up. Breathing fast, clutching a blanket to my chest, I gazed into murky darkness, startled to be in a stranger’s room.
Until I remembered.
Leah. Not Amber.
Hugging the tear-damp pillow, I rocked back and forth, too exhausted to even cry. I heard a rumbling and winced at the cramping in my stomach. Hunger pangs. Outside it was dark night. A glance at an illuminated clock showed it was not quite three in the morning.
My stomach growled louder, demanding food. But I preferred to sleep and dream about my family. The concept of eating repulsed me. Yet the gnawing hunger was too severe to ignore. So I flipped on a bedside lamp and half-rolled, half-stumbled out of bed. Pushing back tangled blonde hair, I checked the room for a food tray. But there was nothing. Angie must have removed it when I was sleeping.
I prowled the room like a wild animal foraging for food, digging in drawers, the closet, and even under the bed. The only interesting thing I found was a journal with just a few pages of writing. I put it aside to read later — after I found something to eat. If this had been my room, I would have found my hidden stash of candy, granola bars, and red licorice. But Leah didn’t even have a stick of gum.
Frustrated, I stomped my feet and kicked at the door.
The door flew open. Unlocked?
Stunned, I just stood there. Who had forgotten to shut and lock the door? Angie? Leah’s mother?
Unexpected freedom should have thrilled me. Yet what did it matter? Being freed from Leah’s room didn’t free me from her body.
Still, I should take advantage of my freedom and do something like …
a) Find a phone and call someone for help (Who? I had no idea.)
b) Find Leah’s car keys so I could escape. (But where?)
c) Find the kitchen and eat.
Since I had no idea who to call or where to escape to, I gave into my growling stomach and chose “c.”
Twinkling night-lights guided me downstairs and into the spacious kitchen that I’d passed on my first escape attempt.
The kitchen was dark except for a soft glow from the far corner. As I drew closer, I saw that the glow came from the refrigerator door — which hung wide open.
On the floor squatted a small boy wearing only pajama bottoms.
“Hunter?” I exclaimed.
“Shssh!” He set down a bowl of cereal and glared up at me. “Do you want to wake up the whole house?”
“No.” I lowered my voice. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He gestured toward his cereal. “Get lost.”
“Forget it. I’m starving.”
“I got here first. I was sent to my room after Dad’s lawyer bailed me out. I didn’t steal that much, just some dumb CDs, so I don’t know what the big deal is.”
I gave him a shocked look. “You were arrested?”
“Just a misdemeanor.” He shoveled in a spoonful of Captain Crunch cereal. “Why is everyone freaking out?”
“Why steal, when you can afford anything you want?”
“I said it was no big deal. Just messing around with the guys.” He shrugged. “Dad was laying into me, but then you showed up in even worse trouble. I was punished with no dinner, but he never said anything about breakfast.”
I pointed to his bowl. “Any cereal left?”
Crunching noisily, he gestured toward a box on the counter beside a gallon of milk.
“Where are the bowls?”
“Where they always are.” He shook his head like he thought I was nuts as he pointed to a cupboard above the microwave.
Stainless steel appliances, granite countertops and hanging brass pots gleamed throughout the kitchen. I tried three drawers before finding a spoon. Then I couldn’t find any chairs. Those must be in the dining room, which could be miles away in such a humongous house.
My stomach growled approvingly as I poured cereal. I scooted down to the floor across from Hunter. Without his gangsta clothes and knife he seemed like a normal kid. We sat like that, chewing and swallowing. I started to talk, but then caught his hostile look and remembered that he hated me … well, Leah. I wasn’t that crazy about him, either.
I downed two bowls of cereal and still felt hungry. So I opened the fridge and rummaged around for something else to eat. There were unrecognizable leftovers in plastic containers. I eyed them suspiciously. Ultimately I settled on an apple and packaged string cheese.
Sitting back down on the floor, I started to unwrap the string cheese when Hunter lunged for me. “No! Leah!” he shouted.
He snatched the cheese stick out of my hand, his bowl clattering to the floor and splashing milk and cereal everywhere.
“What the hell?” I plucked cereal from my hair. “Are you insane?”
“Not me. You are!” He waved the cheese stick at me.
“You’re the one stealing my food like a crazy person,” I said with a tight hold on my apple, afraid he’d grab it next. “Why’d you do that? If you’d wanted cheese, you could have gotten your own.”
“I didn’t want the stupid cheese. I just didn’t want to watch you die.”
“Die? You’re delusional.”
“And you’re allergic to cheese.”
“I am?” I sank against a cabinet, shaking.
Cradling the apple in my lap, I stared at Leah’s hands. I’d almost killed myself, again. Amber was already gone. I couldn’t change that, and I had to take better care of the only body I had left. Despite everything, I wanted to live.
“I’m sorry, Hunter,” I finally said. “Thank you.”
“Whatever,” he said roughly. “Clean up the mess.”
Then he left the room.
I should probably have left, too. But I was still hungry.
After finishing the apple, then finding a bag of Oreos in the pantry and scarfing down half the bag, I cleaned
