She touches my hand, and I let her because I know what this means. She’s waited half a lifetime to choose wallpaper in a house she won’t need to escape from and buy ornaments that won’t be smashed within a week. This is her forever home.

“Sure,” I say, even though I’m not as ready to make this place our own; not if that means forgetting what happened here before we arrived.

I need to know what that is first. I need to know if the sad Amy who wouldn’t look me in the eye suffered the way Mum used to. If anyone should understand why I’m worried about the holes, it’s my mother. But Jay has made her forget quicker than I can.

Whatever Mum thinks about her old life, she does it in secret, when none of us are around.

“Do you like it here?” she asks, and I can see the hope behind her eyes.

I can’t say no. I can’t say not yet. I can’t say anything except, “Yes,” because her heart is only held together by a few small things and a few big ones.

One of the big things is Jay. He showed her that not all men are monsters. And the smaller ones are moments like this, when I could be honest or I could be kind.

“It’s amazing,” I say and, for a second, I think I’ve gone too far.

But Mum squeezes my hand. “It is, isn’t it?”

I glance at the holes in my door, then back to my mother. We’ve spent a lot of time sitting on my bed, but, usually, we’ve been hiding, waiting for someone to leave or someone to calm down or sober up. This is a new experience for us, and I can’t ruin it, now.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” I say, and Mum beams.

“Me too,” she says.

13

My mum won my dad in a raffle.

It’s okay if you don’t believe me. Most people don’t. But, my parents—when they were together—used to perform how they met like a play. Dad always started.

“On the most important yesterday,” he would say, “Fate woke up in a very good mood.”

Mum met Dad at the fire station in town. It was an open day, there was a raffle, and she bought a ticket. When her number was called, there were only two firefighters left, and she nearly chose the other one.

“But there was something about your dad,” she would say. “I missed him when I looked away…even then.”

When they got married, Dad framed the raffle ticket and hung it over their bed. And, every morning, I would touch it and say thank you. Mum said they were my first words. She said, while most babies say Mama or Dada first, I said thank you to Fate.