I remember one time we were walking into a grocery store and an old man was ringing a bell for the Salvation Army. I asked my dad if we could give him some money and he told me no, that he works hard for his money and he wasn’t about to let me give it away. He said it isn’t his fault that other people don’t want to work. He spent the whole time we were in the grocery store telling me about how people take advantage of the government and until the government stops helping those people by giving them handouts, the problem won’t ever go away.

Ellen, I believed him. That was three years ago and all this time I thought homeless people were homeless because they were lazy or drug addicts or just didn’t want to work like other people. But now I know that’s not true. Sure, some of what he said was true to an extent, but he was using the worst-case scenarios. Not everyone is homeless because they choose to be. They’re homeless because there isn’t enough help to go around.

And people like my father are the problem. Instead of helping others, people use the worst-case scenarios to excuse their own selfishness and greed.

I’ll never be like that. I swear to you, when I grow up, I’m going to do everything I can to help other people. I’ll be like you, Ellen. Just probably not as rich.

—Lily

Chapter Nine

I drop the journal on my chest. I’m surprised to feel tears running down my cheeks. Every time I pick up this journal I think I’ll be fine—that it all happened so long ago and I won’t still feel what I felt back then.

I’m such a sap. It gives me this longing to hug so many people from my past. Especially my mother because for the past year, I haven’t really thought about everything she had to go through before my father died. I know it probably still hurts her.

I grab my phone to call her and look at the screen. There are four missed texts from Ryle. My heart immediately skips. I can’t believe I had it on silent! Then I roll my eyes, annoyed with myself, because I should not be this excited.

Ryle: Are you asleep?

Ryle: I guess so.

Ryle: Lily . . .

Ryle. : (

The sad face was sent ten minutes ago. I hit Reply and type, “Nope. Not asleep.” About ten seconds later, I get another text.

Ryle: Good. I’m walking up your stairs right now. Be there in twenty seconds.

I grin and jump out of bed. I go to the bathroom and check my face. Good enough. I run to the front door and open it as soon as Ryle makes it up the stairwell. He practically drags himself up the top step, and then stops to rest when he finally reaches my door. He looks so tired. His eyes are red and there are dark circles under them. His arms slip around my waist and he pulls me to him, burying his face in my neck.