My life is a game of limbo—how low can I go? By four in the morning, I slip into jogging shorts, a tank top, and my most sensible shoes. If Jake’s awake, listening to me get dressed, he doesn’t let on. I slip out of the tent and climb to higher ground in search of a decent cell phone signal.

Satisfied with two bars, I call my sister.

“It’s the middle of the night, Ave. What’s the emergency? And why have you been ignoring my messages?” Sydney’s groggy voice bleeds into my ear.

“My fucking phone won’t work half the time. No damn signal.”

“Whoa, sailor, what’s with the language?”

“Don’t start with me. I’m stuck in the Ozarks, and I fear I could be in Oklahoma or Texas by tonight. I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. It’s unbearable.”

“Is Swarley okay?”

I jerk my head back and hold the phone out as if I can’t believe I’m talking to my sister—my flesh and blood. “Swarley? I’m calling you in the middle of the night confessing that I’m living under the most unbearable conditions, and you react with ‘Is Swarley okay?’ What the hell, Syd?”

“Sorry. It’s just that you can be …”

“What?”

“Well, a bit dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I have less than five dollars to my name; Anthony had all my accounts frozen. I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally a mess. And I’m roughing it with Satan and your dog that hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

I bite my lips together. She doesn’t know about my hand. I didn’t want to ruin her trip with my grievances, but … desperate times. “Before I left L.A., he chased a cat while I was walking him, and he ruined my hand. Major ligament damage. I may never work again.”

Too much? Maybe.

“Oh, Ave—”

“No. I don’t want you to feel bad or responsible. It was an unfortunate situation, but it’s put me and your beloved dog on the outs of sorts. I’m just … well, I’ve hit rock bottom. I thought I could make it to L.A. with Swarley and Satan, but I can’t.”

“Ave … Lautner has a bad stomach bug. I think he caught something toward the end of our trip. Otherwise, I’d see if he could meet you somewhere, bring Swarley home, and let you fly back to L.A. But I can’t leave the kids with him, and I don’t want to pack them up for another long trip. If it’s a true emergency, you should check with Dad and Deedy.”

“Deedy?” I say slowly. “You know about the Deedy?”