Page 143 of The Glass Girl

“Mom,” I mumble into the fabric of her sweater.“Mom.”

“Bella,” she breathes softly. “Bella, just stay here against me for a minute.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Listen to me,” she says.

Her arms tighten even more around me.

“I sold Grandma’s house,” she whispers. “It was time. Emotionally and monetarily, it was time. It is not your fault, Bella. Not one bit.”

I struggle against her, a thousand thoughts racing in my brain at once:

Nowhere to hide now.

My one quiet place.

Our last Scrabble game on the kitchen table—

Where is it now? Dumped into a box? Sold at a yard sale?

No more sitting at her kitchen table, shutting the world out—

The last little bit of her I had, gone—

I can feel my body tensing up like a fist.

“Bella?”

I push away from my mother at the sound of my sister’s voice and turn around.

Ricci’s standing in the lobby, just past the front door, twisting her fingers, her eyes clouded with worry.

My dad opens the door behind her.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “She couldn’t wait any longer.”

I open my arms and Ricci crashes against me, clenching me tightly.

“You will not leave again,” she says firmly. “Never, never.”

I pet her hair. “Sure thing, Ricci.”

I feel my dad’s hand on my shoulder and look up.

“Hey, girl,” he says. His eyes are watery and his hair is longer, sticking out past his ears. Grayer, too. “You look good. This is good.”

Awkwardly, he hugs me over Ricci. “Missed you.”

“Hey, Dad,” I say.

My mother clears her throat. “I’m not pointing any fingers at anyone, but didn’t you two forget about something?”

Ricci unclasps her arms from me and grabs my hand, pulling me to the door.

“Bella, comeon.He’swaiting.”

“Ricci, what—”

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