Chapter 1

The car slowed to a crawl before finally coming to a stop in the middle of traffic.

"Looks like there's a sobriety checkpoint up ahead," my mom, Christina Brook, said with both hands on the wheel.

"So what? You haven't been drinking," replied my dad, Pierre Vale, from the passenger seat.

"No, but we've got too many people in the car." Mom's eyes flicked toward me in the rearview mirror.

I caught the look and lowered my head without saying anything.

"What are we supposed to do?" my grandma, Victoria Hudson, asked anxiously. "Won't they put points on your license?"

"Points and a 200-dollar fine," my grandpa, Ben Vale, added. He leaned his whole weight back as he spoke.

The movement took up what little space I still had left. Half my backside was hanging off the seat, and I had to brace my feet against the floor just to keep myself from sliding off completely.

"200 dollars!" Grandma slapped her thigh, her face pinching with distress. "With everything little Hugh needs right now? That's enough to feed this whole family for days."

"Then, one of us has to get out," Grandpa said. His elbow nudged farther into my side.

"He's right," Mom agreed. Her eyes found mine in the rearview mirror again and stayed there, watching me as though she were waiting to see how long it would take me to understand.

No one volunteered.

Finally, Mom spoke. "Elowen, why don't you get out and walk for a bit?"

"Sweetheart, I'd offer to do it myself," Grandpa said quickly, "but your grandma and I are getting old. Our legs aren't what they used to be…"

As he spoke, he settled more comfortably into the seat, taking up the last sliver of space and leaving none for me at all.

Mom, Grandpa, and Grandma. In the cramped car, all three of them were looking at me. Heat crept into my face beneath their stares.

Up front, Dad had somehow fallen asleep. His head lolled to one side. A moment later, his snores filled the silence.

"Okay," I murmured. I opened the door and climbed out. The moment my feet hit the pavement, pins and needles shot through my legs from being cramped in the back for too long.

"Elowen, wait for us at the next intersection," Mom called after me. "We'll pick you up there."

I nodded, shut the door, and started walking toward the spot she'd pointed out.

Mom had to drive. Dad was drunk. Grandma and Grandpa were too old to walk very far, and Hugh was still so little.

Of course, I had to be the one to get out. There really wasn't anyone else. I repeated that to myself as I walked.

Besides, it was only a short distance. A little walking could save us 200 dollars. Money wasn't easy to come by these days. I was part of this family too. I should be thinking about what was best for everyone.

It was supposed to be fall, but the late-season heat hadn't loosened its grip yet. The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, and by the time I reached the intersection, sweat had soaked through my clothes.

Squinting against the glare, I watched one car after another pass. Ours was nowhere in sight.

A few minutes later, a familiar white sedan appeared in the distance. My eyes lit up. That was it. I could even see Dad through the window. His head was resting against the glass as he slept.

I got to my feet and hurried to the curb, ready to climb in. The car sailed right past me. It didn't slow down. It didn't pull over. It didn't even hesitate.

I stood there in confusion and lifted my arm, waving frantically after it.

Through the rear window, Grandma turned her head. Our eyes met. Then, she turned away. My raised hand slowly fell to my side.

Maybe they hadn't seen me in time. Maybe Mom couldn't stop here. Maybe they were going to circle back.

A knot of unease formed in my stomach anyway. They wouldn't actually forget me… would they?

I retreated beneath the shade of a nearby tree and waited, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest.

Eventually, another familiar white sedan pulled over. Relief rushed through me. I pushed myself up and strode toward it.

Before I could reach the door, a young man hurried past me, opened it, and climbed into the back seat. I froze. There was no one else inside.

"The last four digits are 7316," I heard him tell the driver.

The door slammed shut. I stood on the sidewalk as the car pulled away.

It wasn't ours. It was just a rideshare—same make, same model, and same color.

They really had forgotten me. I wondered if it had been an accident or if they had done it on purpose.

Whatever. There wasn't enough room for all of us anyway. Five people were already a tight fit. I could just get a ride home myself.

I reached into my pocket. Nothing.

I checked my other pockets, then searched them again, more carefully this time. My stomach dropped. My phone was still in the car.

I'd left it there because Mom had promised to pick me up at the intersection. I'd thought I'd only be out of the car for a few minutes. I'd trusted her.

The temperature had climbed to 100 degrees, the pavement shimmering beneath the relentless heat. However, I had never felt so cold.

By the time I finally made it home, dusk had already begun to settle over the neighborhood.

I'd been walking in the heat for more than an hour. My head throbbed, and everything around me seemed hazy and distant. It took the last of my strength just to raise my hand and knock on the door.

The sound faded into silence.

As I stood there waiting, a memory surfaced without warning.

I was little again. Dad and Mom had taken me on a road trip through the mountains of Westmere, with Grandpa and Grandma riding with us.

Back then, Grandpa and Grandma had sat on either side of me, fussing over me the entire way.

They asked if I was hungry or thirsty.

There had been five of us then. Five people. Five seats. It was just enough for everyone.

Now there were six of us and still only five seats. I was the extra person.

My head grew heavier. I leaned against the wall, but my legs could no longer hold me. Slowly, I slid down until I was sitting on the stairs.

Then, I closed my eyes. A single tear slipped silently down my cheeks.