“What is it?” She’s squinting; she doesn’t have her glasses on, and the contacts she normally wears have been retired for the time being, until she can remember to take them out at night. “They were here again? In our driveway?” Her voice is rising, her breath coming out in short bursts.

“Go back inside.” I’m trying to stay calm, but my voice comes out like a growl, and her spine stiffens.

“It says bitch!” Her voice squeaks; she sounds like another version of herself, the one that would follow me around constantly when we were younger, trying to get me to play with her.

I sigh. “Gwen. It’s nothing. Just the same stupid crap that people have been doing ever since Mom took this case, you know?”

“But…it’s on our house. Again. They keep coming, Zach. When we’re sleeping inside! They’re out here, and we don’t even know it.” A sob escapes her mouth and she turns back to me, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “We should get Dad.”

I run a hand through my hair and tug at its ends, trying to think. Our dad’s still asleep upstairs. It’s my job to drag Gwenie out of bed in the morning; my job to drive her to school, to make sure she has dinner, to make sure she gets all her homework done and handed in on time. Over the break, that’s all I did—drive Gwenie to the mall, order dinner for the two of us, stay on top of her to finish the reading she needed to do for her new classes.