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I look for the fastest way to get to her. It’s a straight line, so I cut through the empty space between Bo and West, ducking under West’s outstretched arms.

“Come with me,” I say. “We have to find your grandma.”

Her eyes are on Bo. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“I know. Come on.”

I pull at her arm, and she falls against my side. We zip indoors, casing the joint for Joan. Family room, bathroom, hallway, coffin room. We find her alone in an empty visitation room. When I tell her what’s going on, she just sits there, gazing at a lit cross in a niche.

“Please,” I beg.

She meets my eyes, and her gaze tells me she’s no stranger to this kind of thing. The people out there are her family. She made them with her body, watched them make others, weathered years’ worth of this behavior.

Drinking problems, health problems, abuse, alienation, violence, death.

I wish she’d at least had a chance to bury her no-good son with some dignity, but I want her to step in and help West even more.

“He’s on his own out there,” I say.

She closes her eyes. Sighs.

Gets to her feet.

When she walks across the threshold, I want to go with her, but I’m worried about Frankie. I can’t protect her and be with West both.

It’s killing me not to know what’s happening to him.

“Will you stay here?” I ask.

She bites her lip. Shakes her head.

“I’m supposed to keep you out of trouble, but your brother …”

Is out there.

Is the only thing I care about anymore.

“You really love him, huh?” she says.

I feel the tears coming up, but I take a deep breath and swallow them back down. “Yeah.”

“I won’t come all the way out,” she says. “I’ll stay in the doorway, so I can see what’s going on.”

“Good enough.”

We hustle toward the front of the funeral parlor. I’m halfway down the hall when she takes my elbow. “Caroline?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her apology rings in my ears as I hurry away.

Sorry. As if this is her fault.

I hear sirens in the distance. Did the funeral director call the police? I think he must have, and it feels like overkill until I step through the door and into a disaster.

I see a man in a suit jacket throwing a punch. A woman teetering on high-heels, bent double. I hear a high-pitched whistle, the smack of bone against bone.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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