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he’s given up on being included in this conversation.
    â€œReally?” I ask as my sister drops a slice onto the plate I’m holding. I should have figured that Lucy would have heard of Abe. She has the scoop on everyone.
    â€œWell, not really really,” she says. “But I know who he is. He’s from Yuma, and you’re downplaying. He’s incredibly cute. And from what I hear, a total slut.”
    â€œLucy,” my father says more seriously.
    My sister snatches the plate from my hand and sets it in front of my father, smiling sweetly. Then she comes over to take my uninjured arm, lowering her voice. “He probably thought you were adorable. Did he ask you out?”
    â€œWell, he did try to corrupt me out in back of Santo’s,” I say, earning a look from my father. “He asked if I wanted to go to a party with him tonight. Probably not as a date or—”
    â€œWhy are you here?” Lucy asks incredulously. “You didn’t say yes?”
    I shake my head, and my sister looks offended on behalf of the entire female species. “I’m sorry to say this, Elise,” she states, taking out a slice and biting off the end. “I think you need therapy.”
    I hand her a plate, but she pushes it away, instead using her other hand to catch any grease that might drip. I must have thoroughly bored her, because she wanders back over to where my father is sitting.
    â€œCan I go out for a bit?” she asks, her eyes innocent. “I’ll be back at a decent hour.”
    â€œIt’s already past a decent hour,” he answers, glancing at her above his glasses. “And you just got home. Maybe tomorrow would be better—when there’s daylight?”
    Lucy’s jaw clenches and I feel my own anxiety spike. “I’m eighteen, Dad,” she says in a controlled voice. “You can’t keep me an infant forever.”
    Our father leans toward her, his expression sympathetic, but unwavering. “I’m not trying to, Lucinda. I just want to keep you safe.”
    â€œOr locked away in a tower,” she retorts. She tosses her half-eaten slice back into the box before leaving for her bedroom. We wait, and when her door slams shut, my father takes off his glasses to press his fingers into the corners of his eyes.
    â€œShe has a point,” I offer. “It’s not like she’s going to sell her soul just because it’s after midnight. Not when she can do it any old time.”
    â€œNot funny,” my father says. I know how much he hates cracking down on Lucy, but ever since that incident with the cops, he doesn’t trust her judgment. I wish he’d bend a little more. I hate when they argue.
    We’re silent as we eat, and when I’m done, I kick my sneakers off under the table, sore from my shift.
    â€œYou’re tired,” my dad says. “Why don’t you get some sleep, and tomorrow I’ll start gathering some information. I’ll make an appointment with the doctor, have them do a workup. Maybe have a peek at that arm.”
    So he is worried. I nod, touching his shoulder as I stand to leave the kitchen. When I get to my room, I collapse on my flowered comforter—still in uniform. I’m so drained. I want to think about my day, try to put together the pieces of what happened, but I can’t keep my eyes open. And soon I find myself drifting away completely.
    Â 
    I’m on the rooftop of a high-rise building. The sky is dark and starless around me, the air thick with the promise of rain. I’ve never been here before, I’m sure of that. I take a few steps and the cement floor is cold on my bare feet.
    It’s then that I notice my skin, glowing softly in the city lights. I turn my hand over, studying the gold, when the rooftop door swings open and startles me. I’m about to hide, but the man who walks out doesn’t see me. Instead he saunters over to the edge,