“You don’t give yourself to anyone. Not Dawn. Not your dad, your grandma, definitely not me. If you want to keep the people who love you in your life, you have to let them be a part of it.” Siri’s tears sparkle down her cheeks. “You think real love doesn’t exist, but it’s all around you, and you’re too busy being afraid of it to notice. Guess what, Jamie?” She comes right up in my face. “You’re being a giant asshole, but I still love you and like you. I’m your fucking little sister and I want to be a part of your life. Stop going out of your way to make it so hard.”

“I’m making it hard?! Did I start dating your only friend?!” My face feels like the surface of the sun. Am I melting?

“I don’t have a friend! You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real friend!”

I don’t know what shifted in my face, but Siri nods, wiping her nose. “I know, pathetic, right?” She shakes her head. “I’m so over this right now. Congratulations, you’re just like Dad.”

I bob my head. “I’m going back with Mara,” I tell her.

“So am I,” Siri challenges, her face inches away.

“Go back to your new girlfriend,” I whisper.

“No,” she says simply.

“Fine, then I’m going home with Dad.”

“Fine, then so am I,” Siri insists.

A growl rips out of me, and I push her backward. I instantly regret it, staring at my hands like they’ve betrayed me. Siri trips into the lone hotel lounger chair. The wooden armrest goes straight into her lower back. She emits a piercing scream.

The room goes silent. Mara is on the floor in a millisecond, helping Siri up slowly. She can move. Thank god.

I can’t.

What is wrong with me?

When did I become a monster?

Siri’s breathing is labored as she heaves through whatever pain she’s experiencing.

And then I throw up. I manage to aim it at the foot of the bed, away from my panting sister.

“Jesus, Jamie.” Dad sighs.

Siri catches my eye as Mara helps her to her feet. “You’re a terrible sister. I don’t know why I was so obsessed with you growing up.”

I suck in a rattling breath and look across the room at Papa.

“Papa, can I go back with you? Do you have a spare room?” My voice is a weak whisper.

He glances over at my parents and back at me. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Dad looks at me, incredulous. “Really, Jame?”

“I’ll come back when I’m ready,” I gurgle. Grams comes over and drops a towel over my pile of vomit. She rubs my back. I move away from her, struggling to catch my breath.

“Let’s go home, Siri,” Mom urges.