“Come on!” I shout, but Logan can’t move as fast as I can. Our street is empty, and I’m relieved because we need to get farther away from Mum before we tell the truth. I could take Logan to the bus stop, but the other St. Gregory girls would ask questions—and not nice ones. “What are you doing?”

It’s Mum. She’s behind us, and I’ve failed. She looks scared and angry and kind all at once, but I know which one will win when we’re home.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. Logan talks, instead, and what he says isn’t good. “Amy said my mummy’s back.”

“Did she?”

Mum stares at, me and I don’t want to follow her, but what choice do I have? She doesn’t say anything. She just points at the house, and, this time, when the door closes, she locks it and puts the keys in her pocket.

“Go upstairs, honey,” she tells Logan and then, to me, “How dare you.” She doesn’t speak it. She spits it.

“I’m…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. Do you know what you did? You almost destroyed this family.”

Mum is crying, but not because she’s sad. She’s shaking, and I’m scared she’s going to hit me.

I wish Dad was here because he’d understand and calm her down. He’d make things safe again, even if Mum is a volcano. But Dad won’t be home until late, and anything could happen by then.

“Do you still not understand?” Mum says. “I’ve told you before…if you’d been a better sister…he wouldn’t be here.”

She means Logan, but I’m not sure anymore.

I used to think that, if I’d done my job, Will would be upstairs, Logan would be with his parents, and Mum would be Mum, and Dad would still love her. But she left us. She didn’t do her job either.

Mum has another lock, and I watch as she drills the holes, then swears and tries again.

“Get in,” she says, pointing at my bedroom, and, when the door closes, I hear the metal thud against the wood.

I wait half an hour, then pull, but the door doesn’t move.

I’m just like Logan, now. I’m trapped.

IIII IIII IIII IIII IIII

I can’t listen at the top of the stairs anymore. But, if I close my eyes and push my ear against the door, I can sometimes hear bits of what they say.

“I had him, Chris. I’d won him over. And she ruined it.”

When Dad replies, it’s mostly mumbles.

“Now what? I have to start again, and the damage might have already been done. She told him his mother was back. He’s not going to forget that.”