Maggie turned and rolled her eyes at a bookcase. I don’t want to steal a peek at your stupid diary.

Sam flung the edge of a pink quilt across the bed and straightened it. “There’s a nice way to talk to company, Kate, and how you’re talking isn’t it. Why don’t you show Maggie your new American Girl—” His phone chimed. He dug it out of his jacket pocket, checked the screen, and briefly closed his eyes. On his way out of the room, he answered tersely, “What’s up, Linnie?”

Maggie and Kate stared after him.

“Right now?” he demanded, gripping the back of the couch. “Can’t Kyle go get you?” After a moment of listening, he breathed a humorless laugh. “So why don’t you just crash there?” He began to pace, head lowered, his free hand tugging at the hair by his nape. Halting, he squawked, “What? You can’t do that. We’re not paying rent anymore. Shit, we haven’t even paid up on the rent we owe.” He fell silent for a few seconds, then snapped, “Well, no wonder. I don’t blame him. He probably figured you’d pull a stunt like this.” He blew a loud sigh. “Listen. I’m beat, Dad’s teaching, and I’ve got Kate.”

As if the sound of her name was her cue, Kate sprang up and bounded into the den. “I’ll go! We can both go! Let’s go get her!”

Dread filled Maggie. She should have left when Thomas had. She did not belong in this drama. She didn’t want to belong.

Kate kept begging her dad.

Sam gave Maggie a pleading glance.

Note to self: Avoid Kate at all costs. Maggie edged closer to the girl, mentally scrambling for a way to tempt her back into the room. “Hey, Kate. What’s that thing? You know … the new thing your dad mentioned?”

The girl didn’t even look at her. “Let’s get Mom! Let’s go!”

“Sh.” He put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Sorry, Kate, but we can’t do that.” To Linnie, he said in a bitter rush, “I’m not dragging my daughter out that way, and I seriously wish you’d start making some better decisions. You’re—you’re—” He breathed quickly, almost a pant, and finished, “Impossible.”

Maggie, standing outside the doorway to Kate’s room, could hear Linnie’s answer: a trill of laughter.

Sam growled. “Fuck you.” He ended the call, threw the phone on the couch, then fell beside his cell, the top of his head landing in his palms.

Kate slipped to his side.

“Sorry I swore,” he said gruffly.

“Where’s Mom? Is she okay? Are we going to get her?”