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you in a few days.”
    “Thank you. I owe you.”
    Roma stands up and puts one hand on her hip, the other swinging the box by its handle. “Don’t even think about it. You’re our guests. We want you here.”
    My heart beat drums in my ears. I don’t want to be here. I want to be at home, eating my mother’s homemade soup, clipping articles out of newspapers, sleeping in my own bed and knowing that when I wake up my parents will be in the kitchen waiting to greet me. Instead, I will wake up here tomorrow morning, and I want so badly not to.
    Crissy’s father, Andon, returns from the fields late into the evening. His hands are covered in calluses and blisters, and his face is a deep tan color from the sunlight. There is dirt under his fingernails, and the slouch in his posture is all too familiar to me. My parents came home looking much the same, with windswept hair and muddy clothes. But they were never unhappy, because they could be together all day. I wonder how Crissy’s parents feel, being separated for so long each time he leaves and she stays.
    Dinner is a somber affair. Roma is a wonderful cook, and she prepares a casserole that would have made my mother envious, but my stomach is so knotted that I don’t eat much. I can tell that Crissy and her parents all want to ask me about what happened this morning, to recount each detail from my own perspective. They are on the edges of their seats, but I have nothing to offer them. My mouth feels dry. Words won’t come out.
    “You don’t have to talk about it,” Roma says, after we’ve all eaten in silence for a few minutes. “And we won’t pressure you to. There are some things you should be able to lock away, forget about. But we’re here for you if you do decide you want to talk to someone.”
    Crissy voices her agreement, and Andon nods stiffly. My face feels hot, but thankfully my skin is dark enough to hide the red rising on my cheeks. I am embarrassed and grateful. But I still can’t say anything.
    “Thanks a bunch,” Fray says, filling the silence that I cannot. This is the first time he’s spoken since we arrived. “Everly says we can’t go home. Can this be our home now?”
    “Fray, you can’t just ask someone that,” I whisper, finally finding my voice. “We can’t expect that from them. This is just temporary. You know that.”
    Roma coughs and I look up. She’s got a sad smile on her face that reminds me so much of my mother that it hurts.
    “This can be your home, Fray. Yours too, Everly. If you’ll accept our invitation to stay.”
    “That’s very kind of you,” I begin. The room feels so hot all of a sudden. I wish I could sink into my chair and disappear. “But we can’t just – ”
    “ Please ,” Fray interrupts. “Everly, please. We can’t go home.”
    There are tears in the corners of my little brother’s eyes. I can’t say no to him. He’s the only family I’ve got now – it’s my responsibility to ensure his safety and happiness.
    “Okay,” I tell him. “We can stay.” I look at Andon, who has yet to offer his own opinion on the matter. “As long as you’ll have us.”
    Andon smiles, and the gesture surprises me. “The more the merrier.”
    After dinner I try to help clear the table and wash the dishes, but Roma refuses to let me. Instead, she draws me a bath and lays out clean linens and blankets over the mattress in what is now Fray’s and my bedroom.
    I look around. The walls are white and spackled, and there are no pictures hung up on them. The room looks almost untouched, and I wonder if Crissy’s family has ever had guests stay with them before. I suddenly wish I had spent less time packing my clothes and more time packing more important things. I didn’t even think to bring a photograph with me. I don’t even have a picture of my parents to hang on the wall.
    The bath feels amazing. It loosens up my tense muscles and relaxes me. I wash my hair and scrub my palms, underneath my fingernails,