Annie spends these tortured nights reading books she’s found in the library of the house. Old Yeller, Little Women, Their Eyes Were Watching God. Annie has always been a reader, and she’s so used to cowering in these other worlds as her siblings fought. It really is the only antidote to Mrs. Keller’s moans.

She finds that occasionally, when she gazes past the text, the edges of her vision have turned gold. She can spot these characters speaking to her, rising like smoke out of the book, and carrying on conversations with her or with themselves. She falls asleep to their voices, their physical forms following her into her dreams, like her comforting companions from childhood. It can be exhausting, these constant murmurs, especially when they accompany her into the day. But she’s unwilling to quiet them, these new friends of hers.

One night, Annie wakes to Suzy in her bed, clinging to her. Somehow, she’s bypassed the gate set up outside her room, but Annie is too happy to scold her. She rolls over to her side and turns on the bedside lamp. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Suzy places her head on Annie’s breastbone. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Mommy.”

And that hum grows faster, foggier, more urgent, drives her to reach out and clasp Suzy’s shoulders and hug her tightly, so firmly that Annie can feel Suzy wriggle. “I’m afraid of Mommy, too, baby. But you’ll always have me. You know that, right? No matter what Mommy does, where she goes, I’ll be right here with you.”

Suzy clenches Annie’s nightshirt. “Mommy’s going away?”

“She could. We don’t know yet. But I’ll be here.” Suzy nods, wiping her eyes, burrowing closer into Annie’s chest. She falls asleep like that, and Annie doesn’t stir, doesn’t move one limb that entire night. The next morning her muscles ache. She doesn’t regain feeling in her arm for an hour. But it’s worth it.

Annie had unclasped the bracelet, her birthday present to Suzy, before bathtime. Of course, it’s silly to expect a three-year-old to wear any piece of jewelry at all times, so Annie places it on Suzy’s dresser, near her brush, her baby lotion. On another night when Suzy has bypassed the baby gate and slipped into Annie’s bed, Annie goes into Suzy’s room and clasps the bracelet around Suzy as she sleeps. It’s taken off in the morning, before Suzy gets ready for school. But for a long stretch of night Annie, can admire the charms dangling gently against Suzy’s peachy skin.