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Confusion bled through my mind, and I slowly stepped into the room.

Everyone was here.

Mama was draped across the couch as usual, one arm hanging over the side.

George was in his chair, head to the side, eyes closed.

And the baby…

I stepped toward the crib at the foot of the couch, glancing at George. He was so still. When I got to the crib, I gripped the side and peeked inside.

There was a pillow over his head.

Panic flooded my veins, and I reached in to lift the pillow⁠—

With a horrified cry, I dropped it and fell back, terror constricting my lungs. “Mama!” I stumbled to her side, shaking her as hard as I could. “Mama, the baby—” Her head rolled toward me, and I screamed. Her eyes were wide open, partially rolled back and completely bloodshot. There were dark rings around her neck, her lips were blue⁠—

“George,” I choked out, turning and crawling toward the man I hated. Tears blurred my vision, and when I reached him, I grabbed his arm. “George! Wake up!” Something fell onto the floor with a soft clatter, but I ignored it. “George!”

Why was he so cold? I wiped the tears from my eyes, looking closer at his face. There was something oozing from his mouth, white and foamy. It looked crusty, like it had been there for a while.

I stepped back, my legs shaking so hard I wasn’t sure I could stand anymore. Something sharp stung my foot, and I cried out, falling onto my butt. I grabbed my foot, staring at the needle on the floor.

I needed help.

I needed to call someone. I needed someone to help the baby, I needed⁠—

I pushed to my feet and ran to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and racing into the hall, running to Mrs. Dobson’s door. She would help. She would help my brother.

I banged on her door so hard it rattled on the hinges and echoed throughout the floor. But a hazy, weird sensation started pulling at my limbs, like invisible hands were gripping me everywhere at once, dragging me down, down, down.

I slid to the floor, leaning against the door, weakly slamming the heel of my palm into it as time seemed to slow.

When I closed my eyes, I saw my baby brother, smiling up at me.

And then he was gone and all that was left was darkness.

ONE

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

I fucking hated this place.

As I stared at the woman crying three rows ahead of me, it only cemented my plan to get the fuck out of here before I lost my mind completely.

She was sobbing softly into a tissue, rocking back and forth, as the bus rattled along the deserted streets of south side Marion. They were the soul-rending kind of tears, too; those deep, hopeless cries that made you feel like your heart was being ripped from your chest and you’d suffocate in the sadness.

It was irritating to listen to.

I rubbed my temples, trying to tune her out. After a long day dealing with two dumbass guys who I wished would vanish off the face of the earth, all I wanted was to crawl under the starchy covers of my musty motel bed, listen to the melodic sounds of people fighting in the adjacent rooms, and fall asleep to an old movie on the tiny box TV. I was grateful the motel even had a TV. Some of the places I stayed barely even had a bed.

There was movement to my right as someone sat next to me.

“Hey, little lady.”

The sharp stench of alcohol and body odor hit me and I immediately lifted my hand to cover my nose and mouth. I slid a glare sidewise to the man who’d just dropped into the seat next to mine.

Fuck me, he reeked. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy, like he’d been on an indefinite bender. Wearing a ratty t-shirt and rattier jeans, skin caked with layers of dirt and grime, he looked and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in months.