The silence in my room is suffocating. I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the duffel bag on the floor that I haven’t bothered to unpack. Dad’s words keep echoing in my head—“Just until things calm down.”
As if sending me away to Grandma and Pops’ place will magically fix everything.
I thought I’d feel numb after all this—after hearing Dad say he couldn’t handle me. But I don’t. I feel everything. The anger, the frustration, the hurt—they all crash over me, wave after wave, dragging me under.
I should be packing. I should be getting ready to leave for my grandparents’ house tomorrow. But instead, I sit here, frozen in place, feeling like the ground is about to crumble beneath me.
A knock on my door pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. For a moment, I think it’s Dad coming to try
