I picked ones with big stiff collars that sliced into my chin and openings that dipped down my back. I wanted it to be obvious to anyone who saw me that I had done it on purpose. I practiced my look in the mirror, emptying my eyes of emotion and arching my eyebrows. Slowly, I would walk out of the room as though I had a book balanced on my head, trying desperately not to shake the expression. Inevitably, I would spin the shirt around, slipping it back into its proper position because I never had the courage to go out into the world backwards. That morning, when I glanced back at my mother, I recognized her look—the one I had practiced and failed to achieve.

We went upstairs and she told me to collect my things. I looked around the pretty green room with the pixie fairies innocently watching me and then I disentangled my belongings from Franny’s. I gathered some clothes and books and hair barrettes—things my mother had hastily thrown together when we left my grandmother’s house. When I was done packing, I sat down on Franny’s bed to talk to the pixie fairies. I knew it was silly and childish, but I made them promise that they would look after her, especially at night. It made me feel better to imagine them hovering around the room while she slept.

My mother was waiting for me when I came downstairs. “Where are we going?” I tried again. She simply shook her head. “Mom. Please.” And even though I didn’t mean to, I could feel tears slipping down my face, making me feel worse.

But it didn’t matter because she didn’t look at me. She fluffed up the cushions on the couch like we were waiting for company to arrive and then took my bag and walked out of the house. I wanted to disappear, and I even looked around for a second, wondering if I could hide in a closet, but then I heard her calling and something in her voice made me know there was no place I could go where she would not find me. I got into the passenger seat of the car, purposely not putting on my seat belt because I didn’t really care if something bad happened. Maybe I even wanted it to because I could not envision anything worse than leaving my sister behind.

I started to imagine what she would think when she realized we were gone. I glanced at the clock on the dash; I didn’t know what time we left Leah’s. I wondered how long we had been driving and how much farther we had to go and then, just as I was about to start crying again, the crunching sound of gravel startled me out of my head. She slowed down as we passed a sign that read EMERALD WELCOMES YOU.

“We’re here,” she said.