The only thing that'll get me out of my room at this point is if the house suddenly goes up in flames. Even then, I might just sink deeper into my bed. I can't imagine the pain in my chest from smoke inhalation could be any worse than the one I already feel.

"Evelyn?" I hear along with light knocking on my door. "I, uh, I made you breakfast?"

"Go away, Gerard. It's too early," I call out, my voice monotone. I eventually fell asleep yesterday, a mess in Gerard's arms, after seeing the news about the Millers. When I woke up I was alone in my room again. So I got up, shut the door, went back to bed, and I've barely moved since. He's not expecting me to go to school today.

"Come on, it's ten-thirty," he says. When I don't reply he sighs. "You need to eat, okay? I'll just leave it here and you can get it when you're ready."

I hear what I realize is a plate being placed outside my bedroom door, then footsteps retreating down the hallway, followed by silence.

What do normal teenagers do when they skip school? I don't know, I've never done it before, and I'm not a normal teenager. Do they go places and actually have fun? That's funny. I'm on my hands and knees on my bedroom floor, scraping my door open as quietly as possible to retrieve a plate of pancakes that, by now, has gone cold.

What do we have here, Evelyn? Pancakes? No, no, no, we can't have you eating that. Throw it away.

Shut up, I'm hungry. It's been over a day. Plus, Gerard makes the best pancakes.

No you're not. You don't even know what hunger is.

Maybe I'm not.

I break the two syrupy pancakes into little pieces then flush it all down the toilet, ignoring the protests of my empty stomach. Then, I place the plate outside my door again for Gerard to find later.

Now, what's the best way to forget the real world? Watching movies on my laptop until my eyes bleed?

Perfect.

I'm not blind. I've noticed how tired and stressed Evelyn seems lately. Course, that's a common side effect of attending middle school, but I can't help but feel like there's something deeper going on. And now there's just another thing weighing her down. Another, terrible, thing.

God, it kills me that there's nothing I can do about it this time but let her hurt and give her time to heal. Of course, I tried to calm her down yesterday, but she just kept rambling.

"It can't be... it's not fair."

She's right; it's not fair. The painful stab one can only ever feel when you lose someone close to you: Not fair.

"I didn't even think to call them. I should've at least called. Two years... I- I didn't even think to update them."

The panic that sets in when you realize just how powerless you are in this situation. That no matter what you do, what you say, what you wish, you can't reverse time. They're never coming back.

"And- and Rosa. Not Rosa. It should've been me."

That one hurt the most. I was stunned at the words and I could only shake my head, knowing she wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. But I really hope she doesn't truly feel that way. Rosa didn't deserve it, obviously, but I don't know what I'd do if I lost Evelyn. I don't even want to think about it.

Parenting wasn't going to be easy, I knew that even before I first started thinking about it. I did not, however, foresee how much it could hurt. How when Evelyn would hurt, I'd hurt too. Not to mention the sleepless nights caused by worrying over her.

I feel like I'm failing her. Like somehow some of her pain is my fault. Maybe she doesn't feel comfortable talking to me? Maybe I don't tell her that she can tell me anything enough? Maybe I don't let her know how much I love her enough times a day? Or maybe I'm just not good enough.

I bet she'll talk to Frank, though. It worked once before.

"Hello?" It takes barely a second for him to pick up the phone.

"Frankie, I think I need you to talk to Evelyn again... it's important."

"What is it? Isn't she at school right now?"

"No, she's here. I let her stay home today."

"Oh, is she okay?"

"Well, I dunno if you saw the news about that car crash yesterday, but those people were her foster family." I begin pacing back and forth in my office.

"Shit, that's terrible. Gee, what makes you think I can help in this situation?"

"I think there's something else going on. She's seemed so down lately, she just hides up in her room all the time."

"Oh," he says. "I think if something's up she'll tell you eventually. I can't see us getting anything out of her now, though. Not so soon after..."

"I know, but... I just don't know what to do. I'm really worried about her." I sigh in frustration, still pacing.

"Look, Gee, she's a teenager. Teenagers hide in their rooms. Right now, you need to focus on getting her through this, remember? She just lost four people."

I'd like to trust in Frank's optimism, believe that she's probably fine and doing exactly what's expected of her at this age. Yet, that doesn't stop me from worrying. Still, he's right. I need to help her through now before we deal with all that.

• • •

It's now Friday night and the only sign of life I've gotten from Evelyn, other than the fact that music has been playing from her room all day (The Smashing Pumpkins, mostly, I think) is the couple of empty plates I've picked up from outside her bedroom when she's done the food I make.

At least I know she's eating.

But, if I'm feeling lonely out here, I can't imagine how she's feeling. Locked up in her room, grieving. I spoke to Mikey and Ray after my conversation with Frank. Mostly to tell them that Evelyn wouldn't be up for a movie tonight. Then, after I'd explained why, Mikey told me something similar to Frank: She needs to know I'm there for her, but she also needs space.

Ray wanted to come over immediately and give her a hug. I knew that probably wouldn't work out so well, though, so I just told him to text her something supportive.

He did. She didn't respond.