I couldn’t stop the tears and my chest felt hollow as I fell back into bed in a fitful sleep. Mrs. Canard’s words about responsibility weighed heavily on me, and I wished I knew what she meant.Around two in the afternoon someone buzzed the front door. At first I tried to ignore it, but they wouldn’t go away. I’d never bothered to change, so I stumbled to the door in my wrinkled jeans and sweatshirt.Sam and Caleb stood on the other side of the door.Sam pushed his way in. “I know you’re upset and you don’t feel like eating, but you’re going to anyway.”Caleb looked at me and shrugged. “Happy Thanksgiving.”Thanksgiving? I’d forgotten all about it.“Hi,” I croaked, suddenly very aware I had morning breath at two in the afternoon, my throat still sore from reading for so long.“Hey.” Caleb touched my arm. “I’m sorry about Mrs. Canard. She was one nice lady.”“Thanks.” Sam had taken off toward the kitchen. “Well, I guess since Mr. Bossy Man has taken over, we might as well put the meal together.”“Might as well,”
