MACKENZI: I can’t get ahold of my dad? And I know he usually works long hours, but I also can’t imagine there’s a lot of demand for home improvement right now, you know?

MACKENZI: I just want to know he’s okay. And yours is the only other phone number I still know by heart.

GWEN: Fuck, Mackenzi.

GWEN: I don’t know what you want me to say.

MACKENZI: Tell me he’s okay?

GWEN: I can’t.

MACKENZI: Oh.

GWEN: For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. [cough]

GWEN: He was a good man. He didn’t deserve this. None of us do.

This phone call has been disconnected.

Phone call between Isaiah and Better Futures

BETTER FUTURES: You’ve reached Better Futures. Our offices are closed until further notice. Please leave a message, and we will try to get back to you as soon as we can.

ISAIAH: Hi, this is Isaiah Wood. I’ve called before from the Hope Juvenile Treatment Center. I’ve tried to email too. You probably won’t hear this either, but…we’re still here. Please don’t forget about us.

This phone call has been disconnected.

Nineteen

Logan

Emerson moans in their sleep. They refuse to wake up. Too many people close their eyes and never open them around here, and I hate it. I hate it. I want my friends back. I want my sister back. I don’t want to be alone here. I need them.

If I hadn’t woken up early this morning, I would never have caught Josie. If I hadn’t caught Josie, we would never have fought. If we hadn’t fought, I would never have had to make noise for help. If I hadn’t made noise, Emerson wouldn’t have come, they wouldn’t have tried to help, they wouldn’t lie here like this.

Is this what it feels like when everything is crumbling? It’s the same ache I felt before the fire. I hate it.

“Logan?”

Nia stands in the door to Emerson’s room. She keeps her distance, which I try to do too, but someone needed to help Casey carry Emerson here. Someone needed to help splint their wrist.

Outside, rain’s starting to tick against Emerson’s window. Nothing more than a gentle trickle, and I stare at the patterns formed by the droplets.

“You need to eat. It’s past lunchtime.”

I half turn to her. Release my hands. “I’m okay.”

Nia takes a tender step toward me. She’s holding on to something in a paper napkin. “No, you’re not. None of us are, but you need to eat. Did you drink anything?”

I wince. “You sound like Leah when you say that.”

She frowns as she follows my signs, but I know she recognizes the sign for my sister, and she can figure out the rest from there. The corners of her eyes crinkle. “Well, she’s right. And she would want you to take care of yourself too.”

I scoff. “Fine. But we’ll need to make more bread soon.”

She holds out the napkin to me, and when I rise to grab it, she smiles. I unwrap it; it has a raccoon sandwich inside. The remainders of our meat with the last bread we have. Still, it smells good, and my stomach growls. I easily forget how hungry I am when my mind is occupied with other things, but when I take a bite, I don’t know how to stop. I scarf down the food.