Nine Lives by Erin Lee Page B

away. I stare, too long perhaps, at her pixie nose and strong chin. She’s older now and looks so much like Tom. Where has time gone?
    “I’m so nervous. Just three days and then it’s show time,” she says. “Would you mind quizzing me later? I have a hard time doing those flash cards by myself. I fall asleep. And right now, I’m studying med pour calculations. Boringggggg.”
    “I’d love to help, Noelle. In fact, if you want, you can drive my car and I’ll ask you questions while we’re out today,” I say, grateful for any chance to think about something besides my deteriorating life.
    “Awesome, thanks,” she says, reaching in the fridge for an apple. She stops to look at pictures of her father and me at one of our more recent visits. She looks away. I swear I can see a tear in her eye, but I don’t ask about it. She wouldn’t want me to.
    “Okay, let me find Laina. I’m going to see if she will watch Jeremiah and Mary. We’re only going to be out for a bit and Caroline agreed to keep an eye on things. I hate this, Noelle. I can’t even leave for an hour without having to coordinate this whole huge thing.”
    “Oh, I know. I can’t imagine. I hate that this is happening.”
    “Laina!” I lean over the sink, looking into the backyard to see some sign of her. She’s not in her usual spot, where she thinks she’s getting away with smoking unseen. “She’s unreal, you know that? Mary? Come here!”
    Mary comes running from the living room.
    “Did you find your sister?”
    She shakes her head. “Nope. Can I have a lollipop?”
    “One. Where have you looked?”
    “I dunno. Everywhere? Can I have two?”
    Noelle hands her two lollipops, and I try not to think about the sugar rush in the form of a screaming, grouchy five-year-old heading my way later this afternoon.
    “I’ll go find her,” Noelle says, as my cell phone ringtone interrupts.
    “It’s the JPO,” I tell Noelle. “Should I answer?”
    “Um, yeah,” she says. “When I find her, I’ll keep her distracted. Take as long as you need.”
    Noelle disappears and I answer my phone. On the line is yet another probation officer whose name I don’t recognize. I can’t figure out whether there are high turnover rates in social services or if everyone quits when they realize they have to deal with Laina. Who would blame them? Thank goodness Juliet has stuck around. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
    One hour and no sign of Laina later, I run to the bathroom to vomit. According to the probation office, I may be charged with child neglect because I left Laina home alone the day of her therapy appointment. No matter how many times I explained that I didn’t leave her home alone, that I had just stepped away for a few minutes to run to the pharmacy and do other errands while she met with Abigail, they don’t believe me. They insist I dropped her off at the therapist’s office and made her walk home alone as some form of punishment for pressing charges on Tom. I can’t imagine what they’ll do when they find out about my visit with Jada too. There’s no chance of visiting Hope now. I may as well be on house arrest with Laina. For what? I’ve done nothing wrong. If I were really trying to punish her, believe me, the punishment would be a lot harsher than making her walk. I can’t even admit to myself the fantasies I’ve had in that area.
    Noelle finds me curled up on the tiny downstairs bathroom floor. I don’t know how long I’ve been crying. I tell her I can’t leave to report Slash. I have to be home in case Laina shows up. If I get caught leaving her unsupervised again, the state will come in and remove Jeremiah and Mary. She slides onto the bathroom floor and cries beside me.
    Neither of us barely notice or care when Laina arrives, hair tousled and red-faced, looking smug. Her squint is furious when she realizes we’ve been whispering about her. Instead, Noelle kicks the bathroom door shut, locks it, holds me, and