He drops his eyes. “I couldn’t.”

“What’d you do with him?” I drag my body down the dark hallway. So tired.

Ethan swings our arms back and forth lightly. “He’s in a cage in the barn. I named him Superman.”

I chuckle. “Superman, huh? Now we really can’t eat him.”

“I wanna keep him.”

“We’ll see.”

I fall into bed with my clothes on. My last image is Ethan curling into his blanket, his dark hair falling over his sleepy eyes. Man, it’s good to be home.

* * *

I wake to a sharp beam of sun dancing on my eyelids. I squint into the midday sun. Ethan usually has me up at the crack of dawn with his chatter. Either I slept through it, or he thought I needed the rest. Boy, is he right. My body aches like I’ve taken a bad fall down a rocky hill. The goose egg where my head hit the jail wall smarts when I probe it. My mouth tastes like a dirt road. Yet, the voices down the hall are laughing. All worth it.

I drag my body out of bed and down the hall to the kitchen. Arn sits at the table with a fresh bandage wrapped around his bare chest. His eye’s still swollen shut and his jaw looks like someone put it on crooked, but his color has returned. He spoons weak broth into his mouth. His hand trembles when the spoon meets his lips, but he steadies it easily enough.

My mama strides around the kitchen, pounding fresh dough on the counter, chopping angled carrots. Her burned face is set in a calm contentment. Auntie knits in the chair opposite Arn. She’s the first one to notice me leaning in the doorway.

“Up, I see,” she says, her needles clicking. “Thought you’d sleep the day away.”

“Hush, Bell. She needed her sleep.” My mother floats over and hugs me. “Morning, angel. Hungry?”

I haven’t eaten since the canned beans I scarfed on the road yesterday afternoon. My stomach growls. “Yeah. Is it lunch time?”

My mama drops dough balls on a tray. “We’re pulling out all the stops. I’m making Auntie’s famous bread, we got fried rabbit, and I found an apple in the back of the pantry.”

“Rabbit?” I look for Ethan. “We ain’t eating Superman, are we?”

She shakes her head, but her smile wilts. “I promised Ethan we wouldn’t hurt Superman, but he’s pretty upset we can’t take him. I told him he has a few days till the move, but he’s out sulking in the barn. Maybe you could talk to him.”

I don’t understand. “What?”

“I said he’s sulking in the barn. When you’re done eating, could you talk to him?”

“Not that. The other part. The part about us moving.”

She stops slicing carrots into little orange circles. “Riley, you didn’t think we could stay here after what happened? We’ll never be able to trade in town again. As soon as Arn’s well, we’re leaving.”