Where was Mom when I was in the hospital? She chose Kina and Angela over me. She chose them over me without knowing how long I'd be knocked out from my head injury. She lost her son and didn't care if she lost me, too. Now I knew for sure she didn't love me.

And Kina. She was the reason our brother died. If she wouldn't have come to my ballet practice, then Franco would've stayed to keep me company. Instead, he had to butter up to Kina because he was the oldest. Well, Kina better not expect that kind of treatment from me. I was planning on making her life miserable.

Kina killed my brother, my best friend, and for that, she had to pay.

I closed my eyes and wished I was anywhere but here. Mom leaned my head back. My hair landed in the water. She massaged my head. I hated to admit it, but the massage felt good. She used a caring touch, the kind of care only mothers knew.

After my bath, I was alone, wrapped in a towel, in my bedroom. I sat on the edge of my bed for a long time, holding myself and staring at my purple walls decorated with pink polka dots, the only colors shining through my dark mood.

If I wouldn't have knocked myself out, then I would've known my brother was dead sooner. I would've seen his death with my own two eyes, Dad wouldn't have gotten a chance to lie to me, and I would've been there for Dad. He needed me during that time, and I had let him down as I had let Franco down.

Finally, I stood up and walked over to my dresser to get out my pajamas. It didn't take long to put on my clothes. Staring in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall, I looked like a dried up raisin, because I had waited too long to rub lotion over my body.

Someone knocked on my door.

Secretly hoping it was Dad or Angela, I said, "Come in."

Angela was my youngest sister at eight-years-old. Since Franco was gone and I was the oldest now, she would have to be my new bestie in the house. I had to take care of Angela. I couldn't let Kina kill her, too. No siree, not on my watch.

Mom opened the door a crack and peeked her head in my room. "Can I come in?"

I stared at her. I wanted to say no, but I knew she wouldn't respect my decision, so I nodded instead.

The corners of Mom's lips twitched as she tried to smile. She walked into my room and shut the door behind her. She invaded my personal space by giving me a hug and rubbing my back. Too weak to push her away, I let my arms hang by my sides. I didn't trust her. I needed to know why she left me at the hospital. I needed to know why she wasn't there when I woke up.

She whispered in my ear, "You don't know how relieved I am to have you in my arms right now. My baby girl. I don't know what I would've done if I had lost you, too." She squeezed me, as if that would show how much she loved me. 

Mom was partly responsible for Franco's death, so she needed to explain herself. "Why did you let Kina tag along?" I asked.

"Because she asked, Loren." Mom loosened her hold on me, took my hand, and led me to my bed. After tucking me in under the covers, she wrapped one arm around my body. My head hit my soft cotton pillow. Mom faced me. With her free hand, she caressed my face after putting a strand of wet, stringy hair behind my ear.

We were quiet for a long time.

Because she asked, Loren. Those words would haunt me forever. What kind of answer was that? If Kina asked Mom to rob a bank and kill all the witnesses, would she? If Kina asked Mom to poison Dad for the insurance money, would she? If Kina asked Mom to lock Angela in the car in one-hundred degrees heat for hours, would she?

Before Kina could plot against me, I needed to get to her first.

"I heard the car slam into Franco. I tried to get to him, but Mrs. Denton wouldn't let me." I swallowed a knot in my throat. "I wanted to be there for him, to help him."

"I can't even imagine what you and Kina went through."

I sat up. Why was Mom bringing up that shitty backstabber? Who cared what Kina went through? I was the one who lost my best friend.

Wait a minute...Kina wasn't that smart to come up with a sneaky plan. What if Mom was helping that little brat? She knew I had a concussion. I wasn't allowed to sleep for twenty-four hours. Mom had almost tricked me. I had to watch my back around her, too, unless Kina was the one who convinced Mom to tuck me into bed. Maybe she was the mastermind.

Never underestimate your opponent.

"Why weren't you there when I woke up?"

Mom held my hand and looked down to the carpet. "You need to know you have the next few days off school. We'd never make you or your sisters go at a time like this."

"Why are you avoiding my question, Mom? I can handle it."

"I don't want to upset you, Loren."

"Please. I can handle it," I begged.

Her bottom lip trembled. "I was making sure Franco's body was transported to the funeral home."

I could figure out the rest. Later, Mom and Dad would also have to plan my brother's funeral arrangements by picking out a coffin and choosing his outfit. I wanted to help. I knew Franco best of all. It should be my decision of what he wears. I'd pick something that would make him happy. I felt better knowing Mom chose Franco over me, though. Anything was better than her choosing Kina over me.

"Can I choose his outfit?"

"I already have something in mind."

"What?"

Mom hesitated. I could sense she was uncomfortable with our conversation. "His suit and tie from Homecoming," she answered.

"No, you can't do that. Please let it be shorts, a T-shirt, and a hat. I know his favorite outfit. I can pick it out now." I climbed out of bed, but Mom held my hand and dragged me back.

She frowned. "The suit is final."

"But Franco would hate that. He had his own style!"

Mom pulled me in close and wrapped her arms around me again. "Baby girl, calm down."

"No! No! No!" I stomped my foot. "He wouldn't want to look conservative. He has to look cool."

Dad rushed into my room. I wiggled out of Mom's hold and hurried to Dad. After hugging him, he wrapped his arms around me.

"Please don't make Franco wear a suit!"

"Calm down, Loren."

"No! No! No! Don't take her side!"

If he knew she was trying to get me to sleep, so I would never wake up, he wouldn't hesitate to take my side. Through his shirt I felt Dad's heartbeat racing. He had always hated to see me in pain. He would let me get my way. I knew it.

Dad let me cry until my throat hurt so much I couldn't make sounds, until my tear ducts went dry. I was so tired. My head felt as if a hammer was smashing my skull, and my eyelids were heavy. My vision blurred. I didn't know how much longer I could fight sleep.

Dad asked, "Baby girl, are you awake?"

"Yes," I whispered.

I bet Mom was upset that I made a scene and caused Dad to come into my room, ruining her plan. What would she tell Kina? When would they try to kill me again?