I run up to her and grab her arm. “Where are you going?”
She pushes me off, hard enough that I fall. “To get a break!”
This isn’t what I wanted. I need her to stay by my side until I know she’s safe. Sure, we’re both upset, but she can’t leave. Not like this. Not when I’m so close to saving her.
She rushes down the hallway as I scramble after her. “Mallory, stop!”
But she only moves faster, clearly wanting nothing more than to get away from me. She heads out the front door without bothering to close it and gets in her car. By the time I make it to the driveway, she’s already pulling away.
“Mallory!” I scream, but it doesn't do any good.
She’s gone and I don’t know when she’s coming back.
I wait hours for Mallory to come home, but she doesn’t. I’m sitting on the stairs when Dad finally walks in.
“You’re still up?” he asks. “I figured you’d be in bed already.”
“I was waiting for Mallory.” There’s a part of me that wonders if I should mention the cheating, but it doesn’t seem like it’s important right now. I just need to know she’s okay. We can talk about the cheating another day.
“She’s staying at a friend’s house tonight.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Didn’t she text you?”
Of course she didn’t. I don’t have my phone.
My phone.
I stand up, walking backwards up the stairs. Maybe I can find it and talk to her that way. “Well, you’re right. I am kind of tired.” I fake yawn to sell the story. “I’m going to go to sleep.”
He laughs. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug goodnight?”
I pause, heart beating. I missed this version of him somuch. I run into his arms and squeeze him tight, pretending like he’ll keep me from falling apart.
There’s a lump in my throat because tonight is the first time I’m afraid I’ll fail. I’m scared I’ll lose my family again. I can’t let that happen.
“Goodnight,” I say, pulling away.
I make my way back upstairs and straight into her room. I rummage through her dresser, under her clothes, even through her underwear. I try my best to put all the clothes back as neatly as I found them, but I have a feeling she’ll notice the way I refold some of them. I don’t have time to make each crease crisp and exact.
When I come up short, I move to her vanity’s drawers. The first one has what I expect: makeup, hair ties, and a brush.
I slam the drawer shut and move on to the one below it. I pull on the handle, but it snags on something inside, only opening a crack. I stuff my fingers into the crack, trying to push down whatever’s catching the drawer. I feel a smooth metal surface.
With one hand I push the papers down and with the other I pull until the drawer jolts open. The drawer is packed full with papers, and on top of the stack is my phone. The phone she took away from me when past me ran away. The case is yellow and orange with a crack along the back, just the way I remembered it.
It still has power and I immediately call Mallory. Maybe if I apologize, she’ll come home. She can’t push me away right now.
The call goes straight to voicemail.
I stomp my foot. Why did we have to argue tonight? Why did I have to open my big mouth and yell at her?
She’s right. I’m not good at anything and I make everything worse.
If I had been a better sister, would she be less stressed? Would she have been able to focus on school instead of resorting to . . .
I don’t even want to think about her awful secret.
