“Carl?” I whispered, but he didn’t budge. I looked at his hands again. They looked raw, dried blood in the creases. Water filled my eyes, and I yanked at the collar of my T-shirt and scraped away the tears. After last night, that asshole under the bridge, the panic inside the cottage, I couldn’t pretend Carl was okay anymore. He wasn’t just a man who lived life his own way. He needed someone to help him. He needed me to be a better friend.

I went to the bathroom, and as I peed I looked out the window. The sun was touching the tops of the trees now, making the water sparkle. Soon it would slip down further and the shadows would thicken inside the woods. I wished I hadn’t slept for so long. I decided that tomorrow, as soon as there was daylight, I’d go home. I’d follow the creek until I came to the bridge. From there I knew the way. As soon as I could I’d go see Mrs. Spooner and tell her everything. She’d have the solution. Exactly what to do about Carl. How to help him.

When I came out of the bathroom I realized how hungry I was. There was a dull cramp underneath my ribs, and I went to the kitchen hoping to find food. Sticky tape residue was still left on my feet, so with each step I was picking up dust and hair. Fuzz from the rug. But no shard of glass stuck in my skin. Carl must have gotten it all.

There was an undersized fridge in the tiny kitchen with an opened pack of bologna, a loaf of bread, margarine, and an enormous jar of jam. I tore into the bag of bread, spooned mounds of jam onto a slice, stuffed it in my face. In a cupboard I found a can of peaches. I opened them, and with a fork stabbed the pieces and brought them to my mouth. I barely mashed the chunks with my tongue, just let them slide down to my stomach.

When I had enough, I sat down on a chair. Jogged my knee up and down. I heard a splash, then someone shouting outside, laughing maybe, and all at once I remembered that Carl didn’t own the cottage. We’d broken in, and there was still plenty of damage done, even if he’d cleaned everything off the floor. I watched the door. At any minute a person could charge in, arrest me and Carl. We would go to jail. Probably for a long time.