talked to her, or at least tried. I donât know if she ever read it. Probably not.
I take a breath and then one more drink of OJ. She munches on her cereal.
I screw the cap on slowly and take my time putting the bottle back in the almost empty refrigerator, even though I want to run back into my room and get under my bed with Mr. Cat.
I close the refrigerator and I canât see her anymore without the light. Itâs like she just disappears, which is what I want to happen. I want her to just vanish.
Chapter 5
Julia
48 days
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I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling, watching the fan spin. My favorite pastime. My only pastime. Light spills from the bathroom into the bedroom. Itâs gotten dark out. Ben texted me to say he was going out for a beer with his brothers so itâs just the girls and me. Earlier, I had Izzy order pizza delivery. She brought me two breadsticks and marinara sauce, which I ate, not because I was hungry, but because I could tell she really wanted me to eat it.
I can hear the TV out in the living room. Izzy. She loves the Discovery Channel and the History Channel. Parents arenât supposed to rank their children and I try not to, but Izzy is probably the smartest of my three girls. Caitlin and Haley are bright, but Izzy, sheâs scary smart.
Caitlin was bright . . . I canât get the hang of speaking of her . . . thinking of her in the past tense. Itâs just too much to wrap my head around.
I wonder what Haleyâs doing. I havenât seen her since I picked her up from school yesterday. I know sheâs in the house. I heard the toilet in the girlsâ bathroom down the hall flush today while Izzy was at school. I saw an empty Coke can in the trash, which I moved to the recycling; Izzy doesnât drink Coke. She watched something on TV about corn syrup and is boycotting any food or drink that contains corn syrup. She and Caitlin were doing it together. It took forever at the market with the two of them because they insisted on reading every label.
I hear the sounds of an explosion coming from the TV in the living room. I wonder what Izzyâs watching. I should go see. See how she is. I canât remember when we last talked about anything other than takeout or lunch money for school. She hasnât even asked me to sign anything for school; I guess Ben signs her homework now.
I roll onto my side. It takes a lot of energy to get out of bed. But I know I should. I know I need to. Ben is right. Laneyâs right. Even my mother-in-law is right. Itâs just that my heart is so broken that Iâ
I stop that thought right there because I know that if I donât . . . I know that if I let that thought unravel, Iâll just lie here and cry some more.
I exhale and sit up. I perch on the edge of the bed until the dizziness passes. I probably need to eat something more than two breadsticks. Drink something. Maybe some peppermint tea. Caitlin was my tea drinker. Sometimes, on Saturday mornings, before anyone else got up, she and I would sit at the breakfast table in our PJs and drink tea and have rye toast.
I close my eyes as tears trickle down my cheeks. Iâll never have tea with Caitlin again. Weâll never fight over the heel from the loaf of rye bread from the German bakery we both like. Not ever again.
There are more explosions coming from the living room, followed by the sound of Izzyâs voice. I wonder whom sheâs talking to. I didnât hear Ben come in. Maybe sheâs decided to speak to Haley again. To my knowledge, she hasnât spoken to her in . . . well, forty-eight days.
I make myself stand up. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my T-shirt, slip my feet into my flip-flops, and shuffle out into the hall. The house is mostly dark, though I see light coming out from under Haleyâs door at the end of the hall. Caitlinâs door is closed and the light is out. Forever extinguished . I turn the other direction and