I look over at him, and his eyes are red. He’s definitely been crying. But Cole cries at least once every couple of weeks, so I’m not too worried. Still, I stop my search after one last look under a crayon picture of a dark sea.

Then I tiptoe around all of Cole’s photos to the corner of the room where my bed is.

“We have to choose,” he repeats, and hands me a picture as I climb onto my bed.

I cross my legs and look down at the photo. I’ve never seen it before but remember Cole taking it. We were on the suspension bridge at the Bayou Bend Gardens a few years ago. While Mom, Daddy, and I waited in the middle of the bridge, Cole pushed the timer on the camera he’d set up and ran to get in place.

“Cute,” I say, looking at Daddy’s long arm draped around Mom and my head in the crux of Cole’s elbow, one leg up in the air like I’m about to fall over. Real smiles all around. I hand it back to him.

“Did you hear what I said? We have to choose.” He rips the photo in half—Mom and I on one side, him and Daddy on the other.

“Really, Cole?” I swear he can’t get any more dramatic. “You might as well give it to me now.” I scan my walls for the perfect place to fit the photo. There, I think, spotting the winged Greek goddess, Solange of Samothrace (I gave the Nike sculpture Solange’s head, and in my mind, she thanked me), right above my closet. The Bayou Bend Gardens has a cool collection of Greek goddess statues. The picture will feel at home there.

“Listen,” he says, and places the half of the picture with him and Daddy down beside his long, outstretched legs. “Dad’s moving out.”

The words come at me so straight it’s hard to register them. “Wait. What?”

Then he places the half with Mom and me on the other side of his legs. “They’re getting divorced.”

“Huh?” I wish he would slow down. He’s not making any sense.

Cole turns to face me. “Look, Mom and Dad are getting divorced, and we have to choose who we want to live with.”