Then Ruth steps past me toward the RV. “Okay then, let’s go,” she says.

Ellie and Eddie are already on board. Ruth climbs up and I’m the last one in, and I turn around on the top step and wave at my parents.

“Bye,” Ruth calls from behind me. “Come on, Olivia, close the door.”

I call goodbye one more time, then close the door. I watch through the window and Mom and Dad are standing there, arms around each other’s shoulders. I remind myself it’s only going to be a week until I see them again.

Besides, I have Ruth.

Now we’re ready to go. Ellie and Eddie head to the front. Eddie puts his Nashville Predators cap on his round, bald head and cheers as he slides into the driver’s seat. There’s a small bedroom with a queen bed in the back of the RV that will be their territory on this trip. I climb up into the loft above the driver’s seat, the spot I’ve claimed since I knew this trip was happening. Below me, on the driver’s side, behind the seat, I see the small couch, a tiny counter and sink, and then the bathroom. Across from that is a little nook with a built-in sleeping space. That will be Ruth’s space. There’s a shelf in her nook too, on which she’s already carefully laid her book and a spare pair of earbuds. She takes out a notebook and pen and jots something inside—probably the title of a song or some lyrics she wants to remember, or poetic lines of her own making. Then she adds the notebook to the shelf too.

I peek over my ledge and Ellie looks up at me and grins. She’s got a round nose that wrinkles when she smiles, and clear blue eyes that always look like she’s thinking about something far away. She’s got a big atlas open on her lap. She likes having a physical map to look at and see where we are, even though Eddie’s plotted our course in his phone.

“Are we all ready?” asks Eddie.

Yes! I think.

I really, really hope so.

My sister’s bladder is the size of a pea. Or something, because we’ve only been on the road for a couple hours, but she’s already been in the tiny RV bathroom for almost twenty minutes.

I’m starting to get worried. I always get nervous when she spends too much time cooped up like that. Alone. It’s not usually a good sign.

Finally Ruth steps out of the tiny bathroom and the door claps shut behind her. She tosses her phone onto her bed like she’s mad at it and then collapses onto the bed herself and pulls out her notebook and pen.