I wouldn't be able to stop pacing even if I wanted to. It's like I've suddenly been filled with the perpetually anxious energy of my thirteen year old self, having been compelled to pull my bed away from its place against the wall so that I can walk circles around it. It's easy to ignore the eventual dizziness that comes with doing such a thing when there's so much on my mind to distract me.

My day went downhill the moment Emerald left through the front door, just as I knew it would.

"Help me with the dishes, will you, Evie?" Gerard called from the kitchen when I was still gazing out the window after her car that had long since driven away.

He then left to deliver Lindsey a plate of pancakes; breakfast in bed with all the toppings. When he came back, I was too busy washing silverware to notice, too in my own head to hear whatever it was he'd asked next.

"Uh, Eve?" I jumped when he placed a hand on my shoulder, causing hot soapy water to fly everywhere. Bubbles land in his hair.

"Shit, sorry!" I immediately snatched a cloth from the countertop and rubbed it in his hair with shaking hands.

He took it from me. "On second thought, maybe I don't need you near hot water and very breakable dishes."

"Don't forget the knives," I mumbled while taking a seat in one of the chairs around the table.

"I don't think I'd even trust you around knives on a good day, knowing how clumsy you are."

He finished washing the dishes a lot faster than he would have if I was still trying to help, then suggested we watch TV. It was a desperate attempt to keep my mind off the inevitable: The date that was already tomorrow. So, on came The Office UK, Fawlty Towers, and even some classic Doctor Who, and any other British TV show he could think to put on. Gerard doesn't watch TV often, but when he does, it's often some British stuff he might've watched as a kid.

I mostly stared at the screen, a blank expression almost never leaving my face. I ate when I was handed food, and I answered in a monotonous voice when anyone spoke to me. Nothing they said could make it better, and they knew that. Nothing has felt real all day, like maybe I'm actually asleep. I'll wake up tomorrow morning, and instead of getting ready to go to the courthouse, my mother will never have even considered reentering my life.

In a perfect world her memory wouldn't even haunt me.

Just as I begin to feel like my knees might give out from my relentless pacing around my bed, I give up. My head is spinning when I finally sit down, and I lay back, letting my body melt into the mattress, watching the world go in circles around me until I squeeze my eyes shut.

I don't bother raising my head when I hear my bedroom door open slowly, and then my bed dip first on my right, then on my left.

"Hey, Kiddo," Gee says. He doesn't acknowledge the fact that my bed is not where it's supposed to be.

"How are you doing?" Lindsey asks, brushing some hair from my forehead. Usually I would explode at that question. Isn't it obvious how I'm doing? The answer, plain as day as I haven't cracked a smile since this morning or taken care of myself in much, much longer?

I settle on humming something that could be interpreted as, "I don't know."

"It's getting late, Evie," Gee says gently. "You should try and get some sleep."

That's when I start to panic. Because if I fall asleep, the nightmares will come. And if I fall asleep I don't know what I'll see, who'll be dead next, or what song will be ruined for me because that's the one that was playing the moment my world gets turned upside down again, and again. And if I fall asleep tomorrow will come so much more quickly.

I don't even realize that I'm not simply panicking alone in my head until Gee finally gets me to open my eyes. "Hey, Eve, look at me," he says. "Take a deep breath, you're okay."

My voice is hoarse from barely having been used all day when I croak, "No, no I'm not."

"I'll let you two talk it out," Linds sighs, letting a hand linger on my knee before she leaves the room, letting the door close slowly behind her.

I feel bad every time she tries to help and I brush her off, or when she does something nice for me and I lack the words to thank her. She didn't sign up for this, for a fucked up teen to bring the mood down just by entering a room, but when she married Gerard I was part of the deal, I guess. Man, that must've been disappointing.

"If you think I'm gonna be able to sleep tonight, you're wrong." I sit up and rest my elbows on my knees, my face in my hands. "But I'm so tired."

"I'll stay with you 'til you fall asleep, how about that?" Gee suggests.

"No." I shake my head. "You need to go to bed too."

But that wasn't going to convince him of anything and I knew it, because we've already gone over this before. He's said it, that he wouldn't leave my side if that's what it takes to get me to fall asleep, and he was serious. The last thing I remember before drifting off is muttering, "I'm scared about tomorrow, Dad."

"I know, Eve," he replied, holding me close. And for the first time since this whole thing started, I hear a hint of fear in his voice, too.

• • •

It felt like it wasn't the time for music when we all piled into the car with solemn faces, the radio blaring some rock song I probably would've enjoyed had we not been on our way to the courthouse. Lindsey muted it as soon as it turned on and we've been sitting in near-unbearable silence ever since.

Gerard, with only one white-knuckled hand on the steering wheel, squeezes Lindsey's hand. Mikey is bouncing his leg nervously next to me. I, myself, gaze out the car window, my jaw clenched, my palms sweaty, and my heart beating out of my chest.

No one was able to eat breakfast this morning.

I think I've been the only realistic one since we first read that letter, everyone else staying optimistic, assuring me that there was no way we could lose. But now even Em's Good Luck text from this morning had fear behind it. Now that we're mere minutes away from our destination, it's hitting them like it hit me months ago.

I jump when Mikey taps my arm, my head snapping to the left of me to meet his eyes. He's staring at my hands. I've sunk my fingernails deep into my palms without even noticing or feeling any pain. Immediately, I stop and rest my hands in my lap instead, pulling the cuffs of the sleeves of my dress over the marks.

When Gerard parks the car, no one gets out, no one even unbuckles their seatbelts. That is, until I do. I try to inject confidence into my voice when I say, "Well, let's go," but I falter at the end.

When we walk toward the big white building with stone stairs leading up to the entrance, every step I take leaves me feeling more nauseous than the last.

Frank and Jamia, Ray and Christa, and my grandparents are already waiting inside when we walk in.

Everyone else in this building looks like they belong here. Their clothes are proper, the women's heels click on the tiles, men stand around in sleek black suits, checking their watches and walking with purpose. And then there's me cowering in the corner with my eyeliner and my bright red hair that feels like it's sticking to my forehead with sweat, clad in a black dress and Dr. Martens.

Frank, his hands in his pockets, was staring at the floor with a troubled look on his face until he notices us walking over. He points us out to the rest of the group, his face lighting up despite the circumstances when he approaches me for a hug.

"Hey, Eve," he says after holding me for a little longer than usual. "How you holdin' up?"

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

"It'll all be over after this, though," Ray tries to remind me, joining our little circle composed of me, Mikey, Frank, Gerard, and Lindsey.

My heart is pounding even harder than it was in the car on the way here, my hands more unsteady and sweatier than ever. Instead of trying to explain to him that, no, the anxiety has really gotten to me and I really do feel like I'm gonna throw up, I quickly scan the room. My eyes thankfully land on a bathroom sign to my right. Shoving past everyone, I ignore Gerard's panicked, "Are you okay, Eve?" and Lindsey's "Should I go with her?" and make it into a bathroom stall just in time to puke my guts up.

The stall wall feels cool and relieving against my back when I finally slide down it, breathless and slightly dizzy.

"Are- are you alright?" A voice asks cautiously.

My eyes widen. I hadn't even noticed someone else was in here when I ran in.

Without getting up off the floor, I peek out of the stall, holding my breath as though that might make me disappear. Standing in front of the sinks, I see a woman who looks to be in her early thirties eyeing me worriedly. She's about my height and has straight brown hair just like mine was before I cut and dyed it.

And I recognize her instantly.

"I'm fine," I say, standing up and intending to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. I duck my head and avoid the woman's eyes when I make toward the exit, but it's too late. She recognized me, too.

"Oh my god, Evelyn?"

I can't ignore her now, so instead of pushing the bathroom door open and leaving, I turn around slowly and finally meet her eyes.

"Laura."

"You- you're so grown up!" She looks like she wants to hug me, or cry, or maybe both. "I almost didn't recognize you with your red hair!"

"Yeah," I subconsciously run my hands through my hair she obviously has no problem with. She has a nose piercing identical to mine as well, so my efforts really were futile. "I should go back to my family now." I put an emphasis on family.

Her face falls, but only for a split second before she smiles. "Of course. It's nice to see you, Evelyn."

I leave without another word.

When I rejoin the group, Gee hands me a bottle of water. I take a few sips gratefully without caring about the fact that I don't even know where he found it.

"You alright?" he asks.

Everyone is looking at me in concern and my hesitant nod does nothing to help.

"C'mon, Eve," Mikey says. "You don't have to pretend you're okay."

I avoid looking at everyone by staring at my trembling hands. I feel their eyes on me when I say shakily, "She was in there."

"Who w—"

"Oh, hell no," Franks cuts Gerard off angrily. "What'd she say to you? Where is she now? Did she fucking hurt you?"

Shaking my head rapidly, I assure him. "No, she didn't. I'm fine, really."

But somehow that feels worse. One of my biggest fears seem to have come true: She really has gotten better, she seemed nice. If she wins this battle, I'll have nothing more against her and she'll have no reason to lose custody over me ever again. I'll be stuck with her as a legal parent.