“Mom?”

“Yes, Grace?”

“Are we going back home to Elm Street when they let me out tomorrow?”

I set my plastic cup down next to her water pitcher and looked at her.

“No.

We’re going to pack our clothes and rent a small two-bedroom apartment near the high school, just the two of us.”

Grace pulled her knees up a little under the sheet, her fingers twisting the frayed cuffs of her gray hooded sweatshirt.

“Is Dad angry with me?”