Page 18 - My FlipBook

L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

It was either that or an hour-and-a-half bus ride each way to
their old school.
“We’re moving in our graduating year?” Greta had
complained, but only out of duty. One of her best friends had
moved to Kelowna in June and hadn’t called or texted since,
and the other had drifted into a different group. Greta felt
exposed—the last bird in the nest.
So this was their silver platter. Greta took a deep breath

to stop herself from bursting through the door and throat-
punching Patty. Six months from graduation, and Patty had
decided they needed to learn responsibility. This from the
woman who hadn’t worked a day in seven years.
“I’ve given up a lot to join this family and play mother
to those kids,” Patty continued, “and they don’t appreciate
a single thing.” Roger started to say something, but she cut ADVANCE READING COPY

him off. “It’s time for you to choose, Roger. I won’t be made
homeless by those two.” She pushed back her chair and
stomped away. Greta, with no time to shut her door, dodged
into the dark.
After Patty slammed into her bedroom, Greta watched
her father at the table. He hunched over as if a weight pressed
down on him. Then anger devoured any pity she felt. Why
didn’t he stand up to Patty? Would he actually consider
leaving them? A solid assurance moved over her, then a sense

of relief that Patty might actually be the one to go.
But by the time she finished in the bathroom and crawled
into bed, the feeling of assurance had thinning spots. Then
it became so transparent that Greta couldn’t sleep, terror

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