“But you never take the call, do you?” I ask. “When’s the last time you picked me up?”

“I’m busy working to help provide all of this for you. I can’t just leave work at a moment’s notice because you can’t control yourself.”

“Control myself?” I ask through eyes blurring with tears. Nathaniel tugs on my arm, a silent plea for me to let it go.

“Yes. Do you think I can have you at my house when you act out like this? I don’t want you rubbing off on my kids.”

“We are your kids,” I say.

His Adam’s apple bobs. “You know what I mean.”

Yes. You mean you don’t want us as your kids anymore. “You don’t want us. It’s why you left,” I whisper. Begging. Pleading. Hating.

I hate that he left us so why do I still want him to pick me up from school?

His ice-blue eyes meet my gaze. I wish I understood what they were telling me. But before I can get a grasp on it, he looks at Nathaniel. “Grab your stuff. We need to get going.”

I don’t know who gasps louder—me or Nathaniel—but it’s the only sound in the room other than my heart pounding in my ears.

My brother doesn’t look at me as he bends over and loops his duffle bag through his hand.

And to think we both packed, thinking we would both be going to live with him.

“Nathaniel,” I whisper.

He still doesn’t look.

“Nate?”

Our dad steps in between us and brusquely takes the bag from Nathaniel before putting his hand on my brother’s back and pushing him toward the front door.

“See you in a few weeks, Jase,” my dad says without looking over his shoulder.

“Nate!” I shout.

My brother glances over his shoulder and meets my eyes.

Why aren’t you speaking up? Why aren’t you fighting for me? I’m your brother.

Why is Dad leaving me here? With my crazy mom?

Why isn’t Nate trying to get me to go with him?

“I get the calls from the office too, Jase. Believe me. I can’t just leave work at a moment’s notice because you can’t control yourself.”

I can control myself. I can.

“I’m sorry, Jasey.” My mom wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me against her.

I won’t cry.

I will not cry.

“I tried to help you. To get him to take you, not because I don’t love you, but because I do.” She presses a kiss to the side of my head and my body goes numb. “I’m not doing good. I try to but I can’t control it.”

I hate you.