I trailed after Mom into one of the apartments on her list. Dean had helped her apply for something called a Sacred Heart grant, which paid the first month’s deposit and rent for homeless people. It was weird hearing her referred to as a homeless person, but I guess it was true. I’d researched the organization, and it was a tough grant to get. Dean was probably going to have to pull some strings for her. Ever since she had announced that she was moving out, she’d spent almost all her time searching for apartments, and she’d made an appointment as soon as she’d gotten the list from him, like she couldn’t get out of our house fast enough.

The apartment door opened into the living room. There was an area to the right of the living room that was supposed to be a bedroom, but it looked more like a large walk-in closet, and there was barely enough space for a bed. The living room was split into a small galley kitchen that led to the bathroom. There was only a shower—no tub.

“What do you think?” Mom asked.

“It’s definitely got potential,” I said, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

It was small—so much smaller than I’d expected. Most hotel rooms were bigger.

She pointed to the bedroom. “The bedroom is all yours. Every teenage girl needs their privacy.” There wasn’t even a door on the bedroom. We would have to hang a curtain or something. I had to remember to look on Pinterest for ideas.

Mom reached over and pulled me close to her, squeezing me tightly. “I’m so glad you’re coming with me.”

“Me too,” I said, even though I had no idea how that was going to work. I hadn’t talked to Dad about it since she’d brought it up, and they’d told me no. I had been thinking about bringing it up last night, but he and Meredith had gotten into a huge fight outside yesterday, and there had been no way I was going to do it when he was in a bad mood.

He didn’t know we were here. I’d told him Mom and I were going to stop at the grocery store on our way back from her appointment with Camille. I hated lying to him, but I didn’t want to risk him not letting me go. Still, it didn’t feel right. Maybe they’d see Mom was responsible if she got this apartment and set everything up herself. It might help them change their minds about her being able to take care of me. That’s what I kept telling myself to justify lying to Dad, anyway.

Angry voices from downstairs broke into my homework session. I pulled my earbuds out and rushed down to see what was happening. Mom, Dad, and Meredith were in the kitchen arguing again.