Silence
I wake up to a light shining in my face.
“Get up,” a voice says. Low, male, loud. Not Dad. I try to scream, to call for help, but I can’t. Then another voice, also male, also not my father.
“We can drag you feet first,” he says. “Up to you.”
My hand closes around the mace in my pocket. I stumble to my feet, hiding my hand behind my back. A woman cries somewhere behind them.
“These men are going to help you,” Mom says, her voice choked with tears. She walks past them and embraces me. Her cheek is wet against mine. “It’s going to be okay.” My hand flexes around the mace. “I know you’ve been throwing out your medicine,” she persists. “The doctor said—”
The connecting door rattles. The flashlight beam swings around. Leah bangs on the door. Mom turns away from me, hurries out of t
