“To what? To vent about what a mess our lives have become?” Amy yells back. “I’m barely learning how to be a mom to Ellie. How am I supposed to be a mom to a teenage boy or to a little girl who’s too depressed to even eat? I mean, what is it gonna take for Ernesto and Adela to finally understand that we can’t be responsible for their children, no matter how much everyone wishes we could be?”

Jorge’s voice comes out muffled, so I can’t make out exactly what he’s saying.

“Even if that’s true, he can’t just expect the rest of us to stand by while he runs off to a different city,” Amy replies.

“We’re all trying our best,” Jorge says. “Even him. I know Ernesto’s methods aren’t always conventional, but—”

“Conventional? None of this has ever been conventional—starting with the fact that you and I had to become parents to two more kids almost overnight.”

Jorge doesn’t say anything—or if he does, he speaks too quietly for me to hear.

“I want our lives back,” Amy says.

“I know. And I do, too… but we can’t just go back and pretend that nothing’s happened.”

“Then we need some time to reset—at least while we figure out what the hell Ernesto is trying to do.” She pauses for a second. “Maybe Ellie and I could go stay with my parents for a little bit. She needs her own space. I need her to have her own space. I need her to not be screaming in our ears all night long.”

“How could you two leave?” Jorge says. Even through two closed doors, I can hear his heavy sigh. I can imagine him shaking his head, throwing his hands up in the air. “I—I mean, how long would you even stay with your parents?”

Deciding that I’ve heard enough, I turn away from the door. I stumble around the room a little, trying to find my balance. When I bump into the bed, I just let myself fall over it.

I can’t let this happen. I can’t stand by and watch as Jorge and Amy’s marriage crumbles. Maybe Amy is right—maybe the time has come for Ellie to have her own space, but if she takes her bedroom back, where will Sophie and I even go?

We have nowhere to go, I tell myself. Nowhere except for Mexico, but we can’t do that—not yet. We’re gonna need to make travel arrangements, and figure out where in Mexico we’re gonna live and what to do with the bodega, and we can’t do any of that without our parents.