The rest of the party is a blur of Parker’s happy laughter and the tears I’m barely keeping in. I need to keep it together. I don’t want to ruin my last day with him before however long I’ll need to be gone. I should have asked that. I feel like there are a million things I should ask, but I’m not sure any answers will stop me from wanting to go. I plaster a smile on my face anytime Parker looks at me. I don’t get to spend as much time as I wish with him, but watching him smile is enough.

I’m cleaning the kitchen after the kids have gone when Deb calls to me from the living room. “Ava? Can you come in here for a minute? We need to have a family meeting.”

My heart plummets. No. Not yet. Not today.

I force myself to walk over, pausing just inside the doorframe.

Deb sits in the recliner. Parker and Jacob both sit on the couch. Jacob smiles at me. Parker doesn’t look at me. He knows what this is. You don’t call a family meeting with foster kids unless it’s to tell them they have to go. The reason will be vague: it’s just not working out. We’ve been here before. I can’t believe she’d do this on his birthday though.

I failed. Deb felt safer than most, and I dropped my guard. I didn’t pretend to like her the same way I did for some of the others. I could have smiled more, done the dishes, dusted the old banisters that haven’t been cleaned in ages, said thank you for the clothes.

Now I will pay for it.

No, Parker will.

Deb’s eyes crease as she watches me. “Ava?”

How long have I been standing here?

I move toward the couch. I want to sit by Parker, but he’s on the side already, hands clenched in his lap. Jacob sits on the center cushion with his legs crossed underneath him. I have no choice but to sit on the other side of the couch. Leaning back against the cushions, I trace the roses on the couch’s print. It reminds me of the twins and the exploding flowers at the end of their trick—the way it filled me with awe and fear and curiosity.