A week passed and Astrid’s Slump showed no signs of letting up. It was her longest yet. “Are you taking your pills?” I asked her one morning.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Had to make a choice this month. Phone bill, or pills.”

I looked after her as well as I could. I made our meals and gave her pep talks. But I also stayed away from the van a lot. I became a fixture at Dylan’s, to the point that one night Mrs. Brinkerhoff insisted on talking to my mom. I called Astrid and handed her my phone. I could hear snippets; Astrid gave the performance of her life. “Working long hours at a new job…grateful to know he’s welcome at your house…so glad our boys have reconnected…I’ll have you for dinner as soon as things settle down.”

Whenever I could get Wi-Fi, I checked my phone for any word from Who, What, Where, When. So far, nothing.

One evening I heard Astrid on her phone as I neared the van.

“Now’s not a great time,” I heard her say. “I’m swamped at this new job.”

Lie.

“I can ask him. But he’s awfully busy at school.”

Lie.

“I think he’s on a field trip this weekend.”

Lie.

I slid open the door to the van. Astrid looked caught.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked in a loud voice. Loud enough that whoever was on the other end would be able to hear me.

Astrid forced a smile. “It’s Daniel.”

My dad.