She yawns, “Goodnight.”

She didn’t see the toothbrush! Can’t imagine how I could’ve explained that. Shutting my door, I stare at the suitcase brazenly sprawled on my bed as if I put it there without a care in the world. Lucky for me her bedroom is in the other direction. If she’d walked past, all would be lost.

How long will she be in there?

I hear footsteps.

The click of her bedroom door.

Don’t be a goose!

Move!

Avoiding all the floorboards that I know for a fact creak, I wrap my toothbrush in a clean scarf. This will have to do.

Steeling myself, I hold the doorknob, take two silent but very deep breaths, and turn it.

I’m simply grabbing a small snack from the kitchen, that’s all I’m doing.

Perhaps I’m thirsty, and need something to remove the parch.

Perfectly normal!

Downstairs I catch sight of Father sprawled on our sofa.

I’m just walking to the kitchen like a normal daughter who would never sneak out and marry the man you don’t like. Please don’t look over here. You’d see a guilty expression I can’t explain.

He snores.

It turns me around and tiptoes me right up the stairs. I lift my suitcase, oh-so-casually peek into the hallway, and tiptoe back down.

The last floor board creeks.

Of course it does.

It always has.

A snarf noise is immediately followed by a groggy, “Dottie?”

Tucking the suitcase out of sight by our front door, I hurry into the living room. “No, it’s May.”

“May? What’s this about?”

“Nothing Daddy. I was just going to the kitchen for a snack.” He blinks at me. “I’m sorry I’m not Mother.”

He grumbles incoherent nonsense and flips onto his side, facing the back of the sofa. To keep up the ruse, I rummage through our cupboards, and carry cookies upstairs. But I don’t go all the way up. I’m going to hide here and wait for that horrendous noise again. Then and only then will I be certain it’s time to make my move.

I wish I could eat these.

But they’re so crunchy.

How long does it take for men to fall asleep?

Oh!

Not long!

How does Mother live with that infernal racket?