Lily
Mommy packed a bag. Not a big one, just the blue one we use for sleepovers, but she packed it too carefully.
She was folding things twice and checking zippers twice, like if she did it perfectly enough, nothing bad would happen.
“Are we going somewhere?” I asked, standing in the doorway.
She looked up fast. “Just for a few days, baby,” she whispered, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Is Daddy mad again?” I asked quietly.
She swallowed hard before she answered. “Daddy is… upset. But this isn’t your fault.”
I hated when grown-ups said that. It always meant something was very much someone’s fault.
A car door shut outside. I ran to the window before she could stop me and saw Cole’s brought a truck.
Not the bike—a truck. That made me feel better for some reason. He knocked o
