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“I know.”

“Do you think I should say something?”

“No,” I hissed, coming halfway off the bed. “No, Firebird.”

“I can’t just let him—”

“Listen to me,” I hissed again, gripping his hand. “He is twice your size. Do not, under any circumstances, start some kind of argument with Pop.”

“Okay, okay,” he replied defensively. “I won’t.”

“No matter what,” I reiterated. “Don’t provoke him.”

“So, we’re just going to pretend like everything is fine?” Bird asked dubiously.

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” I whispered. “Go to sleep.”

“I’m eleven, No. I’m almost as big as you—”

“Bird,” I growled. “I’m still your big sister. I said I’ll figure it out.”

“Fine,” he muttered.

We both fell asleep, still holding hands and a few hours later, I woke up aware of three things.

First, my arm was completely numb from hanging off the bed. Second, my phone was ringing. And third, Nana and Pop were arguing in the living room and they were getting louder by the second.

“Nova,” Bird whispered worriedly, sitting up.

“Stay here,” I ordered, getting out of bed. I snatched my phone up off the shelf, saw it was Rumi calling, and ignored the call. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t go out there,” Bird ordered, his voice cracking.

“Bird, do not move from that spot,” I countered, throwing on a sweatshirt. “You promise?”

A loud thump made the hair on my arms stand up like I’d touched an electrical current.

“He’s going to hurt her,” Bird replied thickly, getting to his feet. The terror that ran through me as he took a step toward the door was like nothing I’d ever imagined. I couldn’t ever remember being so afraid for him when we were little.

Maybe as a child I just hadn’t understood exactly what could happen.

“I swear to God, Firebird,” I barked quietly. “If you don’t sit back down, I will physically hold you down in here, and Nana can fend for herself.”

“Okay,” he said, dropping to the bed as tears started to trickle down his cheeks. “Okay.”

I slipped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, whisperingplease, please, pleasein my head as I moved toward the family room. Nana and Pop were still yelling and Nana was crying, and I felt like my heart was going to burst completely out of my chest as I got closer.

“You’re fine,” Pop roared as I peeked at them around the corner.

It was dark in the living room because they hadn’t turned on any lights when they came in, but I could still see the mess they’d made. Nana’s wooden chair with the plaid cushion was on its back, a lamp was sideways on the arm of the couch with its shade bent and most of the coats had come off the hangers and were in a pile on the floor.

Pop was looming over Nana, and I wanted to scream at her to get away from him, but I didn’t. It felt like someone had their hand around my throat as I watched them.

“You coulda killed us,” Nana argued, glaring at him. “You’re drunk!”

“I’ll tell you when I’m drunk.”

“You’re swaying on your feet.”

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