Charlotte was the next one to be checked on. She sat on her bed, brushing her doll’s hair, always finding another task to do to separate herself from whatever episode had just occurred. I figured it was a blessing that she could pretend something didn’t happen, but we would both learn later in life that pretending something away was no better than constantly dwelling on it. Both produced impactful wounds that tended to fester in other parts of living.

I slid a Twinkie out of my pocket and left it on her nightstand, my way of giving her a piece of Mama’s comfort. Raleigh would find one on top of his clean set of clothes when he finished washing.

Leaving Charlotte in her denial, I went on a hunt for Boss, finding him doing a poor job of hiding inside his tiny closet. One thing about us Fosters, we tended to grow on the big side, but Boss hadn’t realized his formidable size yet.

My own body had shot up so much recently that I was left with no option but to take clothes from Mama’s side of her and Pa’s closet. After one of my closet raids, I ran into Pa in the hallway. A stricken expression hung heavily on his face while taking in one of Mama’s outfits I was wearing.

“You . . . you look just like your ma.” It was the first time he’d mentioned her to me while actually making eye contact, and it would be the last. It would also be the last time my father looked directly at me. From then on, it was only fleeting glances, as if looking at me any longer than that would result in him turning to stone.

I took another Twinkie out of my other pocket and placed it onto Boss’s lap, wedging in beside him, and we remained quiet for a spell. Silence was another way we dealt with things poorly out on the farm.

Lastly, I peeped in on Peg. He was huddled on the floor beside his bed, staring at his hands with a deep frown on his dirty tear-streaked face.

Standing by the door, I told him, “You taking up for Foxy was the right thing to do, but the way you went about it sure did stink.”

“Just leave me alone,” he ordered, turning away from my view.

“Phoenix, you cannot fight hate with hate. It only produces more hate.” I delivered a quote from Pa and decided not to give my brother a Twinkie for fear it would be rewarding bad behavior. “Stay up here and think about that for a while. Then come on downstairs and help me with supper.” I left without waiting for a reply, knowing he’d make his way to the kitchen eventually.