“I’m not sure if it was him,” Sam said. “There were 4 people with his name. Two of them were private and had no picture. I sent them both a message.”
“And?”
Sam shook his head.
“I haven’t heard anything back.”
“Dad would not be on Facebook.”
“You don’t know that,” he answered, once again defensive.
I sighed and walked over to my bed and lay down. I stared up at the yellowing ceiling, paint peeling, and wondered how we all had reached this point. There were towns they’d been happy in, even times when their mom seemed almost happy. Like when she was dating that guy. Happy enough, at least, to leave me alone.
There were towns, like the last one, where Sam and I both made a few good friends, where it seemed like they might actually stay—at least long enough to graduate in one place. An
