Without stopping to think about it, I climbed up at the foot of the bed and slid in between them, into the narrow valley between their sleeping backs. I hadn’t done it in a long time, and I could feel how much bigger I was than the last time I’d tried to crawl between them. But somehow I fitted myself into the space, the same one Sam and I both crammed into on Sunday mornings. It felt good and snug. I wriggled a little, hoping they’d wake up.

When they didn’t stir, I turned to my mom’s sleeping back. “Rise and shine,” I whispered in her ear.

“Huh?” Slowly, Mom turned over and forced her eyes open. It took her a second of blinking to really see me. When she did, she sat up right away. “Leah? Is everything okay?”

I shook my head. “Of course not,” I said. “Can we please talk?”

Mom sank back against the headboard, back against her pillow, sighed, and reached for the glass of water by her bed. “Sure we can. Just give me a second. I’m not really awake yet.” She took a sip of water, a long slow swallow, and then shook her head. “Last night feels like a terrible dream. Where’s Jasper now?”

“Still sleeping.”

“Good,” said Mom gently.

“I didn’t want to wake her,” I said, “because I wanted to talk to you about her.”

Mom reached over across me and poked my dad in the back. “Paul,” she said. “Paul, wake up.”

He grunted in reply, and flopped over to face us, but his eyes were still closed. “Uhhhh,” he said. “What time is it?”

“Time to get up,” said Mom. “Conversation o’clock.”

He opened one eye.

“Your delinquent daughter wants to talk to you, and I think we should listen. Rouse thyself.”

Dad sat up and scratched his head. He looked down at me, lying there next to Mom. “Okay, let me have it, delinquent daughter.”

It was funny that, as terrible as the situation was, things felt better between us than they had in a year. As if a rubber band that had been stretching tighter and tighter every day had suddenly snapped and broken and all the tension was gone now.

I took a deep breath and sat up, then repositioned myself in the middle of the bed, so that I could look at both of them at once. “Okay!” I said. “I know I have gotten in all kinds of trouble lately. I’ve done a lot of things wrong. And, yeah, I probably deserve to be grounded—”

“I’m nearly certain of it,” said Dad.

“Hush!” said Mom. “Leah’s turn.”