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Back When the Light Went Out Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. July 11
  8. 2
  9. July 11
  10. 3
  11. July 11
  12. 4
  13. July 11
  14. 5
  15. July 11
  16. 6
  17. July 11
  18. 7
  19. Part Two
  20. 8
  21. July 11
  22. 9
  23. July 11
  24. 10
  25. July 11
  26. 11
  27. July 11
  28. 12
  29. July 11
  30. 13
  31. July 11
  32. 14
  33. July 11
  34. 15
  35. Part Three
  36. 16
  37. 17
  38. 18
  39. 19
  40. 20
  41. 21
  42. Acknowledgments
  43. Excerpt from What You Left Me
  44. About the Author
  46. Back Cover

It was getting harder to have sleepovers. Marley’s dad thought it was inappropriate for the boys to stay over. With him out of town, we knew it was one of our last chances to have one before the rest of our parents started to feel the same way as Officer Bricket.

We got away with a lot by having such a wide age gap between the eight of us. Most of our parents figured the younger kids kept the older kids from having too much fun, like we were built-in narcs and they were somehow authority figures. In reality, it was just easier on our parents for us to move as such a large unit. Strength in numbers among us meant less for them to keep track of during summertime.

My spot on the floor was right beside Nick, as always. I took a wide step over Bigs and another over Teeny, scooted around Ruby, and settled back in. I was careful not to wake Nick, who had his arm extended over my open spot as if he were saving it for me. I picked his arm up at the elbow and moved it enough to shimmy into my sleeping bag.

I lay on my back to examine the man-made constellations overhead. They didn’t shine as bright in the early morning light, but still my finger traced across the glowing bulbs, drawing my own versions of the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and Orion’s Belt. The only ones I knew.

Marley cleared her throat. My cue to close my eyes and pretend to sleep.

I must have been very convincing, because after a while, Marley opened one of her nightstand drawers and took out her journal. I watched her through slitted eyes as she wrote and wrote, her hand scribbling faster than my thoughts could even form.

5

Sleep found and held me into early afternoon, when I awoke to Aidy perched on the edge of my bed, using the absolute bare minimum space required to hold her up without falling. “Mom and Dad want to talk to us,” she said.

It was inevitable. A weak-brewed coffee of a speech poured hot down our throats, as it usually was on the day following trouble. The ritual of receiving our punishment actually excited me. It had been so long, I was interested to see how different it would be.