Excerpt

The first time I did it, I couldn’t believe I was doing it. I was supposed to be getting my dad some aspirin from the hall bathroom. He knew I’d get it for him too, because that’s what I always did. I did the right thing, the nice thing. So, when I took the twenty out of his wallet, which was sitting open on the console in the hallway, I was surprised. I was still surprised as I pocketed the money and returned the wallet to the table. I didn’t breathe a word to Dad when I went into the kitchen, just poured him a glass of water and smiled as I let the pills fall into his open hand.

“Thank you,” he said after he swallowed them. He nodded at me, like I was excused.

And I walked away, into my bedroom, where I took out the bill.

Look at that.

Later that evening, after I was supposed to be asleep, I started to feel nervous about taking the money. The apartment was quiet. Shadows from cars passing on the street below crept along the wall of my bedroom like little animals. Like the energy moving through my body, my eyes darting back and forth as I thought. Tomorrow Dad was leaving for an out-of-town meeting at six a.m. I knew because I had made him a snack to take with him in the car. I set up his coffee like I always did to start brewing half an hour before he left. He would go to the drive-thru at Burger King or he would stop for more coffee at Starbucks. And he would open his wallet. And he’d see. For a split second, I wanted that, for him to see, to be caught. The anxiety pushed at my throat. My heart jumped around in my chest. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I got up and tiptoed into the hallway. Tara’s bedroom door was closed, and so was my dad’s. The only open door was the one to Mark’s room – the room that no one had touched, that was full of taped-shut boxes, ever since Mark died. It was dark enough that I couldn’t see anything, so I glided my hand along the wall, moving toward the table. But when I got there, the wallet was gone. And that’s how it started. I’d done this thing, and there was no turning back.

And then, I couldn’t seem to stop.