I hear footsteps, but it’s dark. They are small feet. Who is in here?

No sense in going back to sleep now.

Coffeecake from the box. The big one lumbers across the hall to our bathroom. He looks better, I think?

Late.

I don’t know anything, either.

“Everything under control?” I look them dead in the eye and say, “yes,” with a little bit of a chuckle. I’m not the one they should be worried about.

Today is going to be a long day.

I thought we had fixed this in 8th grade.

She calls because she has a sneaking suspicion that I’m being kept in the dark. She is right.

I begin to wonder if I’ve said too much, but then I think of how important it would have been for me to have had someone speak to me so honestly at that age.