Chapter 5

After Bryce and Sam left, I helped Mom get Dylan to bed. He likes to wear layers and layers of clothes, Bryce’s and mine included. He thinks it makes him look like a football player, I guess. He still had on a lot of Band-Aids, and we couldn’t get one out of his hair, so he went to sleep wearing his little Band-Aid hat and Bryce’s baseball jersey from last year.

We moved to my room and Mom sat on my bed. Ever since I’ve had my seizures, I’ve loved it when she just sits with me. We can talk about almost anything—except what I wanted to talk about most: Sam.

“Mom, what did Sam mean when he said he killed Dad?”

She smoothed the bedspread. “All I know is that he’s a good man. And I’d rather let him talk to you when the time’s right.”

I rolled my eyes. “When will the time ever be right? It’ll take 20 years.”

“Sam wants us all to be safe. That’s all.”

I had no idea what she was talking about.

She picked up a book from my bedside table and scanned the back cover. Mom’s always looking at what other people write. “You ready for Friday night?”

The elementary school had recently gone through No TV Week, and as a prize to kids who turned off the tube, the organizers had planned a sleepover at the school. The principal, Mrs. Genloe, asked Mom to read a story to the kids and wondered if Bryce and I would help with the event.

“Think they’ll still have it if they haven’t caught the attacker?” I said.

“I hope so. I’ve been working on a short story.”

“About what?”

She winked. “Wait and see.”