“Yeah, I’m ready.” I finally take a black hoodie off the hanger and throw it over my body.

“Okay, well, don’t forget your coat, your hat, and your scarf.” Still she speaks like those bad parts are just parts and not the whole picture.

“The hoodie is enough, Mom. Also, I don’t own a scarf.”

“I’ll lend you one of mine—it’s supposed to hit the twenties this week.”

“Okay.” I offer a fake smile, nod, and accept the fact I’ll just have to sneak out of the house so she doesn’t know I’m not wearing a scarf. Definitely not one of hers.

Mom hesitates a little and looks at me humbly, like there’s something big she needs to say.

When I was alone with Benji at the hospital, he said, “I’ll tell Mom to chill on questions until you’re ready to talk.”

It must have worked, because she hasn’t really asked. But she still looks like she’s been crying a lot and trying her best to hide it.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sorry for not making it feel like a safe environment. I didn’t know it would be this bad for you at St. Clair.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t say anything. I should’ve.”

“Maybe it’s not a suitable environment for you, and we can find you a better school.”

“Clark High?”

Mom looks unsure. “Are you ready for that?”

“I think so.”

I just needed to start owning who I was. That’s why I could never function at my district school. People had everything to say about the fact my shoes were dirty.

I didn’t know how to let people’s opinions of me not matter. But it’s pointless to try to change anything about myself, because I can’t. Might as well just find people who are okay with it.

My family, as it turns out, has never been as bad as I thought they were.

Mom tries to smile, but it wanes. “I’m sorry I let your father do that to you.”

The mention of him drops into the room like a bomb, toxifying the air.

“I should have stepped in. I should have stopped it.” And then she’s crying. All of a sudden. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I wasn’t there. I spent a lot of years living in fear. Being so used to the routine, the expectation of a traditional family. And now, after twenty years, I feel like I’m stepping into something better. Setting myself free from that. I wish I could’ve done that before you and Benji got hurt.”