“What?” Karina said, turning to look at her mother. “No, we have to pick her up on July 15. That’s the date.”

“Honey.” Her father reached out and put his hand on top of hers. “We can’t handle it right now. In a year or so, things might be different.”

“But . . . we chose her.” Karina felt a prickling behind her eyes and she spoke louder. “I chose her. Gilly is ours. We decided.”

Mom’s fork clattered onto her plate. “Dammit, Karina. Do you care more about that stupid dog than your own brother?” Her eyes were deep black pools. “We canceled it. It’s done.” She picked up her fork and shoveled a pile of rice into her mouth.

Karina looked at Dad. It couldn’t be true. He sat with his hands folded under his chin, unmoving. “I’m sorry, honey.”

Karina shook her head and pushed away from the table. “I can’t believe you did that. I can’t . . .” And yet, it made sense. Why did she deserve a dog? She couldn’t take care of anything, of anyone. “I’m not hungry.” She left the table, breaking the family rule about staying until everyone was finished, which no longer seemed relevant. Karina ran upstairs to the bathroom and found relief in the one way that had become reliable: two thin vertical incisions on her left inner thigh. When she emerged from the bathroom, she sat at the top of the stairs and eavesdropped on her parents downstairs.

“There’s no other choice, Keith,” Mom was saying. “It’s too much of a distraction. And my mother’s coming next week. She’s not used to pets. Can you imagine that thing peeing all over the house, chewing up shoes?”

Karina remembered that her grandmother was coming from India to stay at least through the rest of the summer. The voices dropped in volume. She heard some murmurs, then fragments in her mother’s voice: “Do you really think . . . take care of . . . living being . . . ?”

So, that was it. This was her family. Dad spent half the day in the kitchen, preparing meals her mother barely touched. Mom was a smaller, meeker version of who she’d been, one who stayed in bed all day with the curtains drawn. Prem was gone, her grandmother was coming, and there wasn’t room for anyone else. And she couldn’t be trusted with anything. This was her family now.

Karina returned to her room, closed the door quietly and sat on her bed. She stared at her phone for a moment, then texted Izzy. She waited a few moments for a reply, but none came. She wasn’t supposed to have her phone in her bedroom, a rule she had regularly broken when she and Prem had been home alone after school. With this thought, her anger was swept away by a fresh wave of guilt. Why had she made a big scene at the dinner table over a stupid dog? Everything was her fault, and now she’d made it even worse.