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that a diet of subway sandwiches and donuts is not good for a person.
And I could ask him how anyone can eat decently with no way to cook real food.
    But he only asks, “Do you think this is the way it will always be?”
    I swallow hard. Put one hand in my pocket and finger the little piece of paper. “Mom
figures that lottery ticket is the answer to everything. As if. It’s just another
of her crazy delusions.”
    When Jake puts an arm around my shoulders, I let myself lean against him. “It sounds
awful,” he says. He smells of straw and wood chippings and ferret. Of all those creatures
he takes care of.
    I lean against him for as long as I dare. When I pull away, he leaves his arm draped
lightly over my shoulder. “Can’t your grandfather help at all?” he asks.
    “I told you. He worries. But it’s just words.”
    “Someone has to be the grownup. Take care of things,” says Jake. “It shouldn’t have
to be you.”
    I’ve thought that a hundred times, but it sounds different coming from someone else.
“You’re right.” I hear how quiet my voice is. So I say it louder. “I know. You’re
right.” I stand, push past Jake and head down the bus aisle.
    “Where are you going?”
    “I’m going to call my grandfather.”
    Jake holds my hand as we wait for the bus to stop. Then we jump down onto the sidewalk.
    I pull my phone out of my pocket, flip it open, then close it again. “I need to call
Grand.” I look around. “But not here. I should go back to our room.”
    “Where are you staying?” he asks. “You didn’t say.”
    “The Lion Motel.”
    His eyebrows shoot up. “Jeez.”
    “What?”
    He looks at his feet. “Nothing. It’s just…well, I hear it’s—”
    “A dive?”
    “Okay. A dive. I’ve heard all kinds of stuff. I’ll walk you.”
    “You go home.” I may have told him everything. Or most of it. But that didn’t mean
I wanted him to see Mom asleep in our grimy room with the Shopping Channel blaring
in the background.
    “Will you call me? Let me know what your grandfather says?”
    “Sure.”
    When I don’t move, he says, “You need my number.”
    “Oh. Sure.”
    He reels it off, and I punch it into my Contacts. Jake comes between Grand and M
Dr . Three numbers are all I have in my phone. That’s one more than I had yesterday.
    It’s a small thing. A good thing. “I’ll call you.”
    As I head back, I catch myself practicing aloud what I will say to Grand. No one
messes with a crazy person talking to themselves in the dark.
    But I shut my mouth and keep on walking.

C h a p t e r T e n
    “Everything okay?” The motel manager ducks out of the office as I pass.
    “You scared me!”
    “Thought maybe you’d done a moonlight.”
    I look toward our room. The car’s gone. But light shines between the closed drapes.
    “Your mom left a while back,” he tells me. “Seemed a bit upset.”
    “Upset how?”
    “I heard yelling. In a real hurry she was, when she left.”
    She could have been shouting at the weatherman or a game-show host. “I’m sure she’s
fine,” I tell him. Then I ask, “How did you know this?”
    “I keep an eye out. Many people who come here, they are, well…” He looks around.
    “Are what?”
    “I could tell your mom was—”
    “Nuts? My mom is nuts. As you have obviously noticed.”
    He frowns. “That’s a bit harsh. She did seem a bit erratic.”
    Erratic is right. “Is there anything else?” Most of the time, I feel like I can’t
cope with my mother. But when anyone else notices? All I feel is their judgment. Of her. And me. I should be able to control her, I hear them thinking. “Look. I
better go.”
    “Of course. You go,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay. You mean well,” I say. It’s probably true.
    “I mean for scaring you like that.” He smiles gently.
    My gut twists every time I come back to a dark, empty place. It’s as if Mom leaves
something dark and toxic behind her.
    There’s no sign of her. But