My face scrunches as I ridicule myself for that thought.
Mom’s voice blurs into my head.
You’re a little too close, and you need some distance. It’ll get confusing as you get older. You shouldn’t be sharing a bed.
I can only imagine what she’d have thought about us last night—fully grown adult siblings sharing a bed. My little sister sleeping in my arms.
I almost see the disappointment on her face as I stare at Dollie and the features they share.
I have to pull back. Standing, I shift away, moving to the window and blocking out the light that helps her nails enchant me.
“My eyes do feel a little sore,” she finally says. Her gaze drops to Duggan, her fingers still moving on that little tie but slower now. “So does everything else, actually. Every joint is aching right now. Maybe it’s from last night with the femme thugs, or maybe it’s just UC. Who knows.”
I snap my fingers to bring her eyes back to me, and my moving hands ask,Can I get you anything?
“I’ll be fine.” After a short pause, where we stare off at different parts of the room, rather than face the awkwardness between us, she asks, “Are you okay? That nightmare was intense.”
With my stare locked on the vacant wall, the only one in here without a single worn poster, I take a breath.
“Clowns, huh?”
My head snaps back to her. Her hand taps the bed, welcoming me back over.
Create some distance with your sister for me, please.
The sad smile on Dollie’s face makes it easy to ignore Mom’s voice replaying in my memories.
“They still terrify me, too.” Her hand moves in time for me to dent the bed at her side. “People do, too. Thank you again for coming for me last night.”
Right place, right time, I sign.
“Well, whatever it was, I’m grateful for you playing my protector again.”
A slow smile creeps onto my face, and it grows a little when I notice that she watches it grow, staring at me differently today. “Can I ask you something personal?”
My squinted eyes and side smile give her my answer.Really?
“If you live up here, why have you not pulled up the hallway carpet? Does it not bother you, the blood? I wasn’t even sure I’d make it across the hallway last night.”
It does bother me, but—my signing stops as her eyes shift to the window.
“Do you hear a car?”
I step away from the bed and pull the curtains back, revealing a nice morning with a sun-kissed sky that makes me squint.
My shoulders drop to the image of a shiny gray Mercedes glimmering below it.
My head bobs.
“Is it Shane?” Can she tell from my demeanor?
Another nod.
“Shit. What is he doing here?”
He trots from his car, his phone getting all his attention as he walks to the front door, bubble tea in hand. Dollie launches herself from my bed and yanks open the door.
I follow her giant steps to the corner of the tatty hallway. Abuse toward me stands out against the walls in need of painting. Accusations for us both lay scattered around each insult.
