Chapters (95)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Video #1
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Video #2
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Video #3
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- The Final Video
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
Dad eases the car to the curb, and Olivia and Gabriela whisper their goodbyes to each other. They make it sound like they’ll never see each other again, even though they’ll be texting the rest of the night. But maybe I’m a fool to judge them for their sappy, heartfelt goodbyes. What wouldn’t I give for one more chance to tell Chloe how I feel? Maybe everyone should say goodbye that way every time they part. Even if it’s just for a night.
When we get to our house, I expect Dad to head to his study, but he stops in the kitchen and says he’d like to talk to me.
Olivia stops, too, and leans against the island with her arms crossed. She’s clearly still pissed. She doesn’t want to let go because she thinks she hasn’t been heard. And she wants action taken. Now.
I try to give Laura the benefit of the doubt and think about it the way Dad explained. Grief makes people do strange things. Olivia should know. The night Mom died, Olivia came home and smashed her favorite dollhouse—one my grandfather had built for her. I mean she stomped on it until it was unrecognizable. I asked Dad to do something, to stop her, but he just let her get it out of her system. Which she did. She smashed the dollhouse until she ran out of energy, and then she slumped to the floor, sobbing. Dad calmly picked her up and carried her to bed. She didn’t smash anything else after that.
“Go on up to your room, Livvy,” Dad says. “I want to talk to your brother alone.”
Olivia starts to protest, jutting her chin out like a boxer stepping into the ring, but then some of the iron goes out of her body. She sighs and turns for the stairs, clomping all the way.
As she goes, she mutters, “It’s not right. She can’t say that shit about Hunter. She can’t…”
Dad rolls his eyes a little and points to the kitchen table. Livvy deserves a break. She just cares about me. Dad and I sit, scraping our chairs against the tile. He looks tired, and his eyes are kind of sad. But they’re always kind of sad.
He drums his fingers against the table a few times. “I feel like I should offer you a beer or something.”
“I don’t want a beer. It’s fine.”
“I was just kidding…kind of.”
“I know, Dad. What’s on your mind?”
He nods. “I don’t want to keep you from your homework. I know you’re still getting caught up. But…well, what’s going on at school? What’s this video Livvy is talking about? Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing, Dad… It’s just…bullshit.”