“Kat. Are you okay?”
There’s a beat of silence that stretches too long before she answers.
“Of course I’m okay. You know me, Tal. I just wanted to check in. How are things at home?”
“I don’t live there anymore,” I say quickly. “I moved out. Katia, do you have a place to stay? Can I see you?”
She ignores the last two questions.
“You don’t live with Dad anymore? Where do you live, then?”
“I’m staying with a friend. It’s complicated. Do you have something to write with? I’ll give you the address.”
“Okay.”
I spell it out carefully. She repeats it once to make sure she got it right.
“Katia,” I say, urgency creeping into my voice, “please tell me where you are. I’ll come get you. Or you can come here. You can stay with me. You don’t have to—”
“I have to go,” she cuts in.
“Katia—”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she says.
And then the line goes dead.
23
JAKE
Birthday
Iwake up already knowing what day it is.
The awareness sits heavy in my chest before I even open my eyes.
My birthday.
I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Talia must already be up, because her side of the bed is empty.
It’s Saturday, and a long weekend stretches out in front of me. No game. No practice. No obligations.
If I can just spend the day here, I think.
At home.
With her.
It’ll be fine.
Just a normal day.
I slide carefully out of bed, pull on sweatpants and a T-shirt, run a hand through my hair, and head downstairs.
I turn the corner into the kitchen.
And stop.
