51.

Why,

Liz said to me,

when I came home

one morning

from a sleepover.

Why have you been

gone so long?

What?

I said

and threw

my backpack on my

bed, turning to

Liz.

Why?

Liz was angry,

really angry.

I was at Mari’s,

I said.

It was a sleepover.

Her face went red and I saw

tears come into her

eyes.

She walked up close to me.

So close I could

see where her bottom teeth

overlapped

just a bit.

Her voice was a fat whisper.

You,

she said, pointing

right in my face,

you

are

always

gone.

For the rest of the day,

no matter how hard

I tried to get her to,

Lizzie

wouldn’t speak to me.

That night,

when the sun

tucked itself in

Lizzie

started to whimper

then

cry.

Shut up!

Momma hollered.

Shut up

shut up

shut up!

Momma slammed the door

between our room

and hers. I

heard the lock

click.

Lizzie’s voice

grew

weary

and I moved from my

bed

to where she lay

curled in a lump.

Let me under

the covers

with you,

I said.

Let me.

Her crying scared me.

Scared me

something awful.

I’m sorry,

Liz

said in her

weeping,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry

to be mean to

you, Hope.

You’re not mean,

Liz,

I said.

You should stay gone,

she said.

You should stay gone

long as you can.

I climbed into

bed with

my sister

tickled her back

and her arms

and her face

trying to calm her

sobs.