out of a terrible, ingrained habit. The line connected, an

what is it n

an accident. The bus, the one with Matthew and your mom, it

ground, soft and cloying. Molly. "Is

? We're at the science fair. Caleb is about to get his

ing. "I am looking at it right now! It's going to f

t next to the phone. "Andrew, tell her to stop. She's just jealous

h condescension. "This is a new low, even for you. Go home an

hun

ality. My breath hitched. It was happening exactly as i

heir expressions a mixture of confusion and growing fear. I saw a ma

zed. A text

ld them you're having a psychotic

his duty; he was actively obstructing it. He was sealing their

ed the steering wheel until my hands were bruised, and cried in pure, helpless terror. I had clung to

o misunderstanding. I

uld not beg him. I would not rely on t

one of the bus windows. She was on her phon

accusation. "Why isn't Andrew here? This is his job! Did you do something to

" I started, trying t

't even do that right. You should have been more like Molly. She knows

ing this. Years of being told I wasn't enough, that my success as a surgeon was a flaw, th

w' s hobbies, paid for Debra' s living expenses, and poured every

de while my husband celebrated with another

dead. She had

rs had stopped behind me, and people were getting out. The family members

t you? Why isn't anyone here? Someone sai

What the hell is wrong with you? My parents a

on me. Someone shoved me, and I stumbled back against my car. The verbal assault bec

unreachable. Laughing, pro