My parents had left me home alone for a week toward the end of May. Told me they’d decided to visit my great-aunt, who’d been sick with cancer for years. It only furthered my headache to realize how oblivious I’d been. They’d left me an expanse of unsupervised free time, perfect for organizing the Adventure. It did not occur to me then that they never once said exactly why they were visiting her, or what they were planning on doing there for a whole week, or upon their return, how it had gone.

“We’re gonna tell your mom we have a feeling,” Dad said. “Not that anything more has happened since the memorial.”

How the alliances had once more shifted. Aidy and my dad were now on a team that didn’t even involve my mom. I comforted myself by appreciating my own loyalty. People could accuse me of a lot of things, but being a traitor was not on that list.

“Mom’s already up in bed,” Dad said. “Bring the clothes to that dumpster on Arbor. If there’s stuff in Olivia’s room that you need to get rid of, maybe now’s a good time for that too.”

Aidy’s volume returned to normal. “Okay,” she said confidently, always appreciating a clear task.

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

“No,” she said with equal confidence.

The floorboards creaked. He must’ve moved to hug her. Their conversation was lost in the closeness. The squeaks moved closer, until my dad’s breath hung over me, full as a rain cloud. “Good night, Ollie girl,” he said. “You’ll be okay.”

The people in my life decided for me I was okay. And I decided right back I was whatever I wanted to be, at least on the inside. But time made the inside sneak outside, until every part of me became Marley’s death, and no one, not even me, wanted to admit it out loud.

Dad went off to his room. Once his door closed, my eyes opened. Aidy stood nearby, as if she knew it would happen that way. “As always, your timing is perfect.” She pulled me up from the couch to look me over. “You seem to be okay,” she said (of course), and started walking to the back door, expecting me to follow.

The pain and the liquor made for a perfect storm of disorientation. Aidy took the bag from the shrubs by our garage. I did my best to keep pace. We walked along the side of our house and out onto Albany Lane. We made it all the way to the intersection of Albany and Arbor, past the haunted house and Marley’s, before Aidy spoke. “What part of this is the act?” she asked me as we turned.

She didn’t want me to answer.