Running my hands through my hair, I hang my head and sit on Callie’s bed for a long moment. I’m dressed. I’m protected. So why the hell don’t I feel ready?
Because I’m scared my mom is so far gone that she risked her life for a drink?
Or because I think she didn’t, and that she’s somewhere out there, hurt or possibly dead?
I don"t even know which of those is worse.
A tremble moves through my body. A thousand moments move through my mind of when I was a child and my mom wouldn’t come home. Things were easier in so many ways. I didn’t have to worry she’d fall and hurt herself. I didn’t have to worry that she’d drowned in her own puke if I wasn’t there to roll her over. I could just take a deep breath, make dinner, watch a show, and climb into bed, with only myself to think about.
But th
