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She was joking, but that was a real concern of mine. On days when she slept from sun up to sun down without waking, I rolled her from side to side, propping her up with pillows to avoid that very thing.
“Where’s Dev?”
I shrugged. “I haven’t heard from him today.”
“I hope he’s okay.” Her forehead wrinkled.
“You know Dev. He loses track of time.”
“He came home last night, right?”
“Yes,” I lied.
If he loved Mom so much, I couldn’t understand how he could let her worry about him. How he could avoid seeing her for a week or more at a time. He always claimed he was out trying to take care of us, but I didn’t see how. Sometimes he had money, but it was barely enough. Most of the time it wasn’t even that. The temperature was dropping steadily outside, but I didn’t dare kick on the heater. Mom had three blankets on top of her already. By the end of winter, she’d probably be crushed beneath them.
“You’ve always been a terrible liar, Samantha.” She patted my hand, and her fingers were little more than bone and skin. I’d had to take off the opal ring her mother had left to her because it kept slipping off her hand and getting lost in the blankets.
I sighed. “He’ll be back soon. He does this all the time. I just don’t want you to worry.”
“I always worry.”
“I know, and you should be worrying about resting and getting healthy.”
She gave me a knowing look, eyebrows raised, but I gave her a look of my own. It was a warning. Positive thoughts only. I knew it was likely my mom wouldn’t get better. Probably, in fact. But that didn’t mean we had to talk about it. And if we did, it didn’t need to happen yet. It could wait a few more months, at least.
A few minutes later, I did end up helping her to the bathroom, and then I went to the kitchen to heat up a can of soup. When I came back, she was asleep again, her head lolled back and mouth open. I sat in the chair next to her bed and ate her dinner. There was no sense in it going to waste.
I must have nodded off myself because when I opened my eyes, the room was pitch-black. I couldn’t see my mom in the bed, but I could hear her labored breathing, same as always. Then, I heard the noise that must have woken me up. It was a harsh sound like pressurized air being released from a can over and over.
My eyes widened, but that didn’t help me see in the dark. I’d been keeping the lights off to cut electricity costs, but suddenly I wished I’d left just one lamp on in the living room. I stood up and carefully stepped over where I believed I’d set the empty bowl of soup on the floor. Then, I slipped through the crack of the bedroom door and closed it.
“Hello?” I whispered down the hallway. “Devin?”
There was no response for a few seconds, and then I heard the hissing noise again.
I moved further down the hallway and then stopped, my heart racing. “Hello?”
It was quiet for so long that I began to wonder whether I’d imagined the noise or dreamed it, but then there was a clatter in the kitchen like a knife falling to the floor, followed by more hissing. Why didn’t I have a gun? Devin had a gun, but I didn’t know where it was. And even I did, I had no idea how to use it.
I felt around for something to defend myself with and found the metal picture frame that surrounded Mom’s favorite childhood photo of Devin and me. We were in matching denim jumpsuits and holding our favorite toys – I was holding my princess baby doll, and Devin had his squirt gun. I held the frame in both hands, deciding breaking glass over the intruder’s head would be better than nothing and continued down the hallway.
Just as I lifted the frame over my head and was preparing to turn the corner into the kitchen, there was another hiss and then a familiar sigh.
“Samantha, are you home?”
All the tension that had been building in my chest came out in a single breath. I lowered the picture to my side and stepped into the kitchen doorway.
“You scared the hell out of me, Devin. Geez. Maybe if you were home more often, things like this wouldn’t—”
The words died on my lips. My eyes widened as my mouth opened. If I hadn’t just heard his voice, I never would have believed the shape sitting before me was my brother.
“What in the hell happened to you?” I rushed forward and knelt in front of him, studying his swollen, misshapen face.
