I parked haphazardly in a motel parking lot.
"I have no idea where we are going," you said nervously.
We sat in the backseat, huddled close, eating the popcorn you bought at the cinema.
I hated buttered popcorn, but I was hungry and that was all we had.
You were thinking out loud.
"We could go to my grandmother Audrey's," you mumbled around a mouthful of yellow popcorn. "She's so cool and understands teenagers. I could just lie and say I had a falling out with mom and dad—or something."
That wasn't a lie.
When we arrived at your grandmother Audrey's the sun was rising.
I wondered whether Michael made it home safe. Then I felt stupid like a traitor. I was betraying our purpose.
We didn't want you sent away to a hospital. He did.
There was nothing wrong with you. You didn't need a hospital.
…
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