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I closed my eyes. I knew it was a childish evasion, but she wouldn’t leave me alone.
“Corrine.” This time, my name choked out of her.
“Will you just go away?” She was too late with the Tylenol. The headache came slamming behind my left eye.
“You don’t even have to answer,” she said, sounding defeated. “I know this song by heart.”
“It’s my life,” I whispered.
“Really? Who’s been here to clean up after you? To pick you up off the floor. Making sure you eat. Making sure you take a shower and get dressed. Have you been checking in with him? Where’s your phone?”
“Stop it!”
“I want to see. Has he called you?”
I wouldn’t answer her. She got up and started ransacking the apartment, throwing drawers open, flipping pillows off the chairs.
“Stop it!” I shouted.
“I want to see your phone!”
“Here!” I said. I saw the corner sticking out from under the couch. I unlocked the screen and threw the thing at my sister.
She caught it. She held it in front of her for a moment as I dared her to go through it. She didn’t though. Instead, she slammed it onto the kitchen counter beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I sound like a crazy person even to myself.”
I crawled back to the couch and curled into a fetal position. My head was pounding in earnest now. My sister poured me another glass of water and brought it to me.
“Keep drinking,” she said. “You’re dehydrated.”
“No kidding.”
“I knew this was where we’d end up,” she said.
“There’s no we. It’s just me. My life.”
“Not when you’re staying here for free. Not when you have responsibilities to the family.”
I opened one eye. “You really want to go there? You wanna talk about my responsibilities? What about yours? What about PJs?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“You’re damn right I am.”
“And you’ve been going down rabbit holes with the police. I told you nothing good would come of it. I knew it was going to send you right back to the literal floor, Corrine. You made promises to me. To PJ. He didn’t want to come up here. Did you know that? He wants me to deal with everything. Like I always do. Clean up your mess.”
“It’s not my fault,” I muttered.
“I can’t stand by and watch this all over again.”
“Then don’t.”
“He’s not worth this, Corrine. Your peace… your safety… that’s what’s worth fighting for. Not him. Answer this when we call you.” She grabbed her purse off the counter and tossed me my phone. She shook her head, pausing as if she wanted to say something. She turned, walked out, and then slammed the door behind her.
I grabbed the other couch pillow and smashed it over my ear, sandwiching my head. My phone buzzed with an incoming text.
I told you we’d always find our way to each other. You looked beautiful. I’ll get to you as soon as I can. Be careful though. The police aren’t going to help you.
