Page 576 of End Game

An open door—with a lock on my side of it.

Dad closes his eyes.

He doesn't contradict her.

That's its own answer.

I look at him once more.

He looks wrecked.

He also stays beside her.

“Then I guess I don't know when I'll be back or see you again.”

Mom covers her mouth.

Dad looks like I hit him.

I step outside.

The door closes behind me.

I don't turn around.

My phone buzzes before I leave the neighborhood.

I ignore it.

It buzzes again at the next light.

Then twice more.

By the time I reach the highway, the cup holder flashes every few seconds.

I know what happened.

Mom called Aunt Rachel.

Or Dad called Uncle Stephen.

Or someone called or texted someone.

Maybe they told one person.

That's all it takes in my family.

One person becomes four.

Four becomes everyone.

At the next light, I glance down.

There’s a notification from Aunt Rachel.

I don't open it.

Another notification appears over hers from the Family Chat.