chapter1

I’m under the bed. They don’t know it. They think I’ve run away again. And I have. Only this time I’m under the bed.

I can see their shoes as they walk around my room. There are my mother’s small fat feet squished into a pair of blue Kmart specials. My father’s cowboy boots stampede across the linoleum floor. In the corner, my tiny sister, Lily, flutters her pink ballet slippers against the metal bed frame. She whispers, “Row, row, row your boat,” over and over.

My mother’s sneakers zigzag as she paces. “Where does she go? That kid will give me a heart attack!” My father doesn’t answer. My father doesn’t talk when he’s mad. He roars.

My mother shakes my little sister. I crane my neck, straining to see. She grabs Lily’s face. She squeezes her cheeks. She is angry at my father, but Lily gets it. Whoever is in the room gets their anger; this is why I’m under the bed. I want to yank my mother’s hands away, make her stop. “Where is she?” Her words are hot and Lily gets burned. “Where is Harley?”

My sister knows what’s coming. So do I. She starts to tremble. “I . . . I don’t know.” She speaks the truth. She doesn’t know. I feel bad that Lily is being tortured because of me. But although she is only five years old, she is a strong prisoner and does not break.

“Let me handle this, Peppy.” My father speaks softly. Not a good sign. Lily is caught in the cross fire; the battle is between the two of them. My father rumbles over to Lily. He removes his belt. It has a big silver buckle in the shape of Texas, even thou...