Ariana shifted the dresser she’d shoved against the door earlier, in slow increments. Any loud movements might send the three adults, in the house, scurrying toward her door. And, as far as she could tell, only her mom was nearby. Maybe. It depended on whether or not she’d shrunk back into her silent shell and sucked the remnants of the mom Ariana missed with her. The last few days had been different. Filled with the other woman trying harder. And after one hospital visit, she’d even picked up Ariana’s guitar and asked for a refresher. Hadn’t gotten upset when the mini lesson hadn’t gone well. Had used care when she slid the guitar to the floor and asked Ariana if she was hungry. As if she’d planned that array of events. Ariana shifted the dresser far enough from the door for her to open it and peak out. All three adults hovered near the front entry, a fourth man she didn’t recognize blocking the only exit. She needed a few minutes of air to clear her head. To stop thinking of the words she’d read in Paige’s diary.
