“We snuck out the other night. I knew we shouldn’t have done it, but we did. I’m not supposed to be out running around that late at night.”

“Your dad told you he was mad at you?” I asked.

“He didn’t have to. He didn’t say anything. That’s how I know he’s mad. He doesn’t say anything, just sits there with his arms crossed.” Cora demonstrated by clumsily folding her own arms across her chest.

“Sometimes scared looks a lot like angry, you know.”

“My dad isn’t scared of anything.”

“You might be surprised,” I offered. “You could talk to him about it.”

“Maybe,” Cora said unconvincingly and I could tell I was edging into sensitive territory and I didn’t want to push Cora too soon. Otherwise, she might not confide in me at all.

“Did you decide which notebook you’d like to write in?” I asked, nodding toward the stack of spiral-bound notebooks sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.

“I think the one with the polar bears,” Cora said. “I used to have my own journal. I wrote in it all the time.”

“Oh, yeah? I keep a journal, too,” I told her.

“Do you write about me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes with worry.

“It’s not that kind of journal,” I assured her. “It’s my personal journal. I write about how I feel about things, about the books I’m reading. I also write about when I have disagreements or problems with people I care about. It helps me sort through my thoughts. What kinds of things do you write about?” Cora looked at me with suspicion. “Maybe you can ask your mom or sister to bring you your journal so you can write while you’re here.”

“I lost it,” she said with worry. “I hope no one finds it.”

“Maybe it will show up. In the meantime, you can write in this one.” I retrieved the notebook from the corner of the room and set it on the table next to her. “You picked the one your sister suggested. How old is Kendall? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

“Fifteen.” Cora rolled her eyes.

“How do you two get along?”

Cora shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Usually she just ignores me. Most of the time she hangs out with her friend Emery. Sometimes she makes fun of me. But once in a while she’s nice and we’ll talk.”

“What kinds of things do you talk about?” I asked. I was fishing to see if Cora had an ally in Kendall.

“Nothing, really. School sometimes,” Cora said with resignation. “She thinks I’m a pest. But then all of a sudden she sticks up for me like she did earlier.”

“It can be hard to figure out big sisters sometimes,” I said. “But from what I can see, Kendall cares very much about you.”