She took steps toward the front door, the wood floors creaking under her feet as she went. And there it was. She hadn’t noticed it, and why would she have? None of this was supposed to have happened. There above the light switch was a little keypad. Juno took a step toward it; maybe they didn’t put it on tonight on account of the boys being in the house. But there above the number pad was a red light, and the words below it read: ARMED.

Her eyes moved to the door. If she bolted, she could probably get across the street to the park before anyone saw her—couldn’t she? She had to try; Juno walked decidedly for the door. She had to grind her teeth to keep from crying out. The pain wasn’t humming anymore, it was death-metal screaming. Juno had to relieve herself. She’d seen a bathroom, just around the way. She’d be quiet; boys slept hard. It was that or—she didn’t want to think about it.

Creeping along the wall, she passed the kitchen, moving away from the family room. Under the recess of the stairs was a small half bath. She didn’t turn the light on, and she only closed the door enough to shield her from being seen first.

The splash was loud. She tried to get everything done as quickly as possible, and then she was hoisting her pants up. Before she left, she opened the tap and bent her head to drink straight from the stream of water. She slipped noiselessly from the bathroom, once again passing the kitchen, but instead of turning toward the door she walked straight to the family room, her left shoulder brushing lightly along the wall.

Before she reached the family room, she spotted the blue glow of the TV. She listened for voices, even a snore, but there were no sounds—just the bouncing light of the TV on mute. She took a breath and looked around the wall. Two lumps lay under a mound of blankets on the floor and a third lay on the couch—that one was Sam. Juno could see the sandy hair in the TV’s glow. She didn’t move a muscle, but her eyes roved to the other side of the room. A table was set up, a light blue tablecloth spread over it. A sign that said Happy Birthday Samuel hung on the wall over the table in metallic blue letters. Juno could see the remains of a birthday cake—the side that Winnie had cut neatly into, and the side the boys had torn chunks out of when they went back for more. She was hungry; when had she eaten last? The sandwich outside on the wall; that had been yesterday, and she’d eaten that apple. She looked at the three mounds again, in a sugar and social exhaustion coma, and stepped lightly to the table.