"Girls cleaned up?" Dad said gruffly, his voice causing me to fumble with the handle of the cast iron pot. I set it carefully back on the pantry's shelve, sliding the camping tripod next to it as my eyes wandered over this confined space.

"Yeah, they're just putting on their shoes."

Most of the canned goods we had bartered or worked for were gone. And on chipped, dusty racks lay a couple of boxes of purification tablets, dried food, and a few old jugs refilled with boiled crick water.

Was this it? Was this all we had left?

"You put out the fire?"

My shoulders stiffened. "Yeah, Dad. I put out the fire."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want—"

"Yes," I replied quickly, my grip tightening around the brass knob before I gently closed the door. "Yes, I'm sure."

His questions were always the same.

"You didn't leave any other equipment outside, the matches or a lighter?"

Seriously?

I turned to face him. Crossing my arms, my red flannel stretched over my black tee, the hard ledge pressing into my spine as I leaned back against the counter. And with a stoic expression, I met those hypercritical blue eyes as they peeked over the rim of his coffee cup.

"No, but feel free to go look, Dad."

I could feel him studying me, my expression, my stance as if searching for the truth. Those faint crow's feet became more pronounced as his eyes narrowed; his thin lips tightening into a flat line before his rough hands pushed his dirty blond hair back from his face. "There's nothing wrong with double-checking. However, what I don't care for is your attitude. You need to check that."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the floor gaining my attention, its stained yellow tiles a familiar target. "Everything is where it should be."

The sound of wood scraping against wood made me look up before he motioned for me to take the chair across from him. "Have a seat. We need to talk."

I froze.

Had Mama told him?

That rapid thump in my chest grew louder as images of juvenile sketches covering the refrigerator blurred, as cheery yellow wallpaper seemed to fade, and the glass patio's cascading light over greenery dimmed.

Breathe, Cassie.

I didn't want to relive it. I couldn't think about what I saw, what it meant. Trying to pry my gloved fingers from the edge of the wooden counter, I willed myself to forget. I willed myself to pretend.

Just breathe.

With my sight glued to my battered chucks, I crossed the kitchen floor, sinking onto the chair's blue cushion like a prisoner resigned to her fate.

Please don't be about Maxie. Please don't be about Maxie.

"We need to set some ground rules," Dad started, that worn bible at his side, his movements slow as he added warm water to a bowl of freeze-dried beef. He stirred its lumpy brown contents, its texture akin to wet dog food.

My eyes remained on the good book, his visual weapon against disobedience as I whispered, "I thought we already did."

Please don't be about Maxie.

Dad frowned before he shoveled that shit into his mouth, the taste doing nothing to appease his mood. "I don't want you going too far from the house anymore, and that goes for your brother and sisters too."

Wait, what?

Dad took another bite; my mind already trying to figure out where he was going with this. Then my brow rose, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. "Derrick too?"

He stilled. "You let me worry about Derrick. You just make sure everyone stays away from the wall."

Why would we go near the wall?

I snorted. "Dad, we live in a gated community. Where exactly are we gonna go?"

"It's not about that, Cassie. I want to be able to see you, your brother, and your sisters from the porch. No more traipsing around the neighborhood with friends. And I'm gonna need you to pitch in more."

Frowning, I couldn't help but think, what friends? Half the neighborhood ditched this place when the plundering got too close to Post Falls. He must have meant--

"Well you don't really have to worry about me running around with Natasha again, now do you?" I muttered bitterly, my fingers, once again, pulling at a stray thread on my glove.

Baiting him was never wise; yet, I wanted him to hear her name. I wanted him to realize that them going against his orders didn't mean that their lives no longer mattered. Yet, once again, Dad remained silent. His jaw tightened; metal scraped porcelain before the crunch of dog food resumed.

Zeroing in on his expression, I changed my approach. "You know... I didn't see any guards today."

Wait for it, Cassie. Wait for a tell, wait for a reaction.

And as I anticipated, he paused, his hand rising to scratch at the straggly hairs along his jaw. "And you know their every move?"

"I'm just saying, it's weird that there wasn't a guard in the tower either."

Dad's discarded spoon clattering against the ceramic bowl spoke of his frustration even if his words never did. "Guards patrol, they switch shifts, Cassie. Why don't you just focus on helping your Mama out?"

But like a scab, I couldn't stop picking once I started. "But that's what Uncle Travis feared, right? Being unprotected?"

One hand tightened into a fist beside his bowl, his usual diatribe spilling from his lips, "We've been over this. Travis was rash. You don't leave safety."

"Because we have guards?" I pressed, desperate to see if he'd finally tell me the truth.

"What's with all the questions, Cassie? You already know how fortunate we've been."

"So, you saw them, you saw the guards switch shifts while you were out talking to Mr. Lawson?"

His fidgeting stopped. "You were watching me?"

Shit.

Biting at my bottom lip, I stuttered, "No, I just—I just looked out the window." I looked down, regrouping, before I asked, "But... why was he so mad?"

Dad went back to stirring his breakfast before he admitted, "He's a bitter old man, that's all. And it's none of your concern. Just do as I told you, Cassie, and let the adults worry about everything else."

He took another bite. "Oh, and make sure Wes is home before curfew."

What?

Our eyes met; the naked truth so clear within his stare. He had heard my conversation with Wes. No, he listened in.

Rising with his bowl in hand, Dad walked to the sink, his words drifting back to me, "Greg says enough shit, don't need to add to his paranoia."

"Dad!" Lexie screamed; her volume, as usual, two notches too high.

"Hi Daddy," Amanda called out as they burst into the kitchen like two unstoppable balls of energy, their matching braided pigtails floating out behind them as they embraced Dad from both sides.

And it was like his whole expression changed with them. Life returned to his face, there was a sparkle in his eyes and that smile... That smile on his face mimicked a joy that I hadn't seen in months.

Who was this man? Who was this stranger tugging at one of Amanda's stray curls, or playfully tapping Lexie's nose? Animated, he asked, "Now what are you guys gonna do today?"

Stay away from the wall.

Rolling my eyes, their voices faded as I slipped on my coat, a part of me wondering if he was ever like that with me when I was younger. It didn't seem likely.

Mamma said we were too much alike.

Yet as I watched him guide Amanda into her red puffer, or as he slid a blue scarf around Lexie's neck, I couldn't help but see more of a similarity between him and Mama.

Maybe there was a pretense between every parent and child?

"Cassie," Mama called out, her eyes still distant as they locked with mine. "You guys stay near today, okay?"

She looked tired, older. The lines in her face appeared deeper, the rings around her eyes were now the color of deep chocolate, and the roots of her black hair were starting to gray. The beauty I always envied seemed overshadowed by worry.

"I know, Mama."

"And here," she handed me a canned jar of strawberries, a delicacy nowadays. "Take that to Shelly down the road later. She promised me a few of her eggs."

"I go too?" Maxie said, his little legs trying to run even as he hurried to put his dirty sneakers on the wrong feet. "Way fo me."

I took a step forward only to pause as Mama pulled him close. There was guilt in her eyes when she looked at me, her smile forced as she bent low to stoop to Maxie's level. "I was thinking you'd stay in today. We need to practice your letters."

Devastated didn't even come close to describing the look on my little brother's face. On a typical day, most of our time was spent doing chores or completing one of Mama's created lessons. But for a few hours, we glimpsed freedom, even if that freedom was experienced mostly in our backyard.

I could sense a full-on tantrum rising just as Dad said, "Let the boy go, Jasmine."

"Sam--" she started only to falter. But really what could Mama say, I don't want something Cassie saw, that I don't believe in, to come true?

"Jasmine, I think we have more pressing matters to think about right now than Maxie learning his letters."

A soundless conversation traveled between them; one I would never be privy to. Then silently, Mama let go, my brother's shoulders slipping from her grip like a drowning person finally surrendering to the water.

"You keep him safe, Cassie."

I took his small palm within my gloved hand, my mind determined to erase my vision. "I will."

Mama nodded her head, her eyes... appearing anything but soothed.

Then, I forced a smile for Maxie's benefit while correcting his attire. "We're all set."

Maxie grinned, one dimple forming in his cheek, and messy curls peeking out from under his green cap. "I just gotta get bear."

"No!" Mama and I shouted in unison.

Maxie looked at us oddly, hell everyone in the kitchen looked at us oddly, yet... I couldn't. I couldn't--

"Leave it here today, Maxie. You don't want to lose it," Mama reasoned unsteadily as she hurried us to the door.

My siblings marched out before me onto the sunlit back porch just as my father's parting words rang out to me, "Don't forget what I said, Cassie. Colossians 3:20."

Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord.

I snorted as I shut the door behind me, muttering, "Yeah sure, Dad, as soon as you follow Psalm 34:13."

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.