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who begged her to leave with her. But Miranda said, “You’re eighteen. If you go, they can’t make you come back. I’m just fifteen. He’d call the police. They’d bring me back.”
    “I wouldn’t let them,” Claire said.
    But as much as Miranda admired, worshipped, her sister, she didn’t believe she had those powers. She wasn’t strong enough to protect her against her father and the authorities.
    One night, it was Claire who came in to see her. Miranda pulled the sheets about her tightly, but when she heard her sister whisper her name, she relaxed.
    “I’m going.” Claire said.
    “Where? What do you mean?” Miranda asked.
    “I’m leaving. Now. I’m not coming back.”
    Miranda felt her heart in her throat. “Don’t go,” she whispered.
    “I can’t stay here another night.” There were tears in Claire’s eyes. “Come with us.”
    “I have a math test tomorrow,” Miranda said. Math was probably the only thing that gave her any sense of accomplishment, the only thing she was really good at. Her father was good at telling her she was pretty much useless, and it rankled him when she came home with perfect math marks, proving him wrong. “It’s worth fifteen percent,” she protested.
    “Jesus, forget your math test. I’m talking about getting out of here!”
    “Shhh!” Miranda said. She didn’t want her father coming in, taking the belt to the both of them.
    “They’re asleep,” Claire said. “He’s passed out, they’re both passed out.”
    “Where’s your stuff? How can you just leave?”
    Claire’s bags—and that’s what they were, bags—were all packed. They were already at the end of the drive. Her boyfriend, Don, was going to pick her up.
    “Where will you go?” Miranda asked.
    “Anywhere. Any place that’s not here,” Claire said. “If I stay here any longer, I’ll kill him. Please come. Don says it’s okay.”
    Miranda liked Don. He was a nice boy. Not like most of the others. Claire was lucky to have found someone like that.
    Miranda sat up in bed. She looked at her dresser, wondered what she would use to carry her clothes. She didn’t even have a suitcase. They had never gone on a vacation. They’d never been anywhere. She could put some clothes in some paper bags. Two or three would probably do it. A couple pairs of jeans, a couple of tops, some underwear. She could get a job, make money, and buy some other clothes, maybe from a secondhand shop, maybe—
    No, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t run away. She was only fifteen. As horrible as home was, it was still a haven. She knew bad things happened here, but she knew what the bad things were. If she ran off with Claire, what different bad things might happen? Would they be worse than the things she had to deal with now?
    “I can’t do it,” Miranda said.
    “I can’t just leave you here,” Claire said. Her eyes were moist with tears.
    “Just go.”
    Outside, they could hear a car coming to a stop. Claire glanced out the window, and the tears running down her cheeks glistened in the moonlight. It was Don. He was putting Claire’s paper bags of belongings into the trunk.
    Claire threw her arms around her sister, and they were both crying now.
    “Soon,” Miranda said. “I’ll try to leave soon.”
    Claire sniffed, wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I’ll help you. Whatever you need, anything, I’ll help you. I will always help you, no matter what.”
    “I love you,” Miranda said.
    “I love you too,” Claire said, and then she slipped out of the room.
    Miranda watched from the window as Claire ran down to the road. Don threw his arms around her, opened the passenger door of his old Camaro for her, and then they drove off into the night.
    Miranda did not cry long
. You’re on your own,
she told herself
. Start getting used to it.
     
5
     
    BACK AT THE OFFICE , I banged out the stun gun story after first placing a couple of calls, one to the chair of the police commission to see what her