56

I emptied my backpack on my bed, then stuffed it with a pair of jeans, socks, underwear, a couple of books, and all the money in my secret stash . . . heart pounding legs running lungs heaving . . . I pulled on leggings and then sweatpants . . . get out get out get out . . . Put on a turtleneck and my heaviest hoodie . . . run hide watch your back . . . Took the hunting knife out of my sock drawer and put it in the pouch.

Fought the urge to set my room on fire and scream while the windows and mirrors shattered. Fought the urge to reach inside and punch my own heart until it stopped beating or until I stopped caring, whichever came first.

I walked out of my room. Down the hall.

They were sitting at the table again. She had the coffee cup to her mouth. He stared into the candle flame.

I grabbed my feathered shawl off the floor. Slammed the front door behind me, hoping that it would make the roof cave in. I did not look back to see if it did.