“Are you okay in there?” asked my mom.

Now some doors opened in the hallway and people looked out of their rooms. I wondered which ones were here for drugs and alcohol and gambling and which ones were here for misunderstandings. Not to be rude, but it was hard to tell. They all looked like they were in for all of it.

“Kate? Kate?” My mom’s voice was getting louder. “You better not be throwing up in there!”

“Mom,” I said, because that was pretty embarrassing and I knew Kate wouldn’t like it AT ALL.

The water stopped and Kate threw the door open.

“MOM!” she screamed. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULD SAY THAT!”

Now almost all the doors in the hallway were open, but I noticed my dad didn’t come out of our meeting room. The tall guy from the reception area and a gray-haired lady with a badge on a lanyard around her neck came toward us.

“I’m just going to use this bathroom over here,” I said, even though no one was listening to me.

Once I was in the bathroom with the door locked, I tried not to listen, but I could hear my mom yelling and my sister yelling and a lady saying something about taking a breath.

Then it went quiet again. Maybe they all went back in to see my dad. Maybe they left. I sat on the toilet seat and stared at the floor.

I didn’t hear anything for a long time, like at least five minutes or more, and then someone knocked on the bathroom door. I actually texted you then, but you were probably busy.

“Hello? Rodney?” A man’s voice. Maybe it was the big guy from the front.

“Yes?” I said. I felt like I was floating in space. No body. No plans. Just nothing. It was okay actually.

“You done in there?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You want to come out?”

I didn’t, but I also didn’t like to say that. Until we left, I never appreciated all the bathrooms in our old house. Our new house has one plain little bathroom, and I can hardly ever get in there because my mom and sister are always using it. So I figured I should take my time in this one. It was clean and quiet.

There were cactus and flower shapes pressed into the tiles, which was nice.

“Rodney? Is your stomach okay?” My mom’s voice.

“It’s fine.”

Then I got up and unlocked the door. The reception guy and my mom and the lady with the long gray hair piled on her head stood outside.

“Oh, baby,” said my mom. She had been crying. Again.

“I know your father wanted to have this initial meeting with you on his own, but I think it would be helpful if we facilitated,” said the lady.