I realize my Grams is dead and that my father will never return home.

I sink to the floor, lower my head into the bunny and I cry.

* * *

All cried out and trying to find a way to leave without admitting I cried, I jump when there’s a knock on the door. It’s weird to say, “Come in,” because it’s weird to think I have permission to say this as if I live here, but I guess I do live here now and it’s time to own it.

Rachel pokes her head in and she reminds me a bit of her mom with the hesitant grin. How many times has Mrs. Young stuck her head into Rachel’s room to gauge what the two of us were doing behind closed doors?

“Are you okay?” Rachel asks.

A glance in the oversize mirror over the dresser confirms the answer is no. My eyes are red and swollen and it’s even stranger that I don’t care that Rachel knows I have the ability to cry. She already saw it once, at Grams’s funeral.

I wave the stuffed bunny at her. “I found these and...” Just and.

Rachel enters and closes the door behind her. “You can thank West for that. The moment we walked in your room and saw those, he was a madman putting them in boxes.”

My friends packed the house for me before Grams died. Sold most everything so we would have money to put her in a decent nursing home and kept only a few things of Grams’s for me. It’s strange I never thought about my room. After I was arrested, that all seemed lost.

I move over on the bed, a nonverbal cue for Rachel to join me and she does. She picks up a pink sheep and messes with the ears. “Are you okay living here? I was so excited to think of you being here with me that I never thought that maybe you wouldn’t want to be here.”

“I want to,” I rush out. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want to live here? And I’m here with you and Ethan. West and Isaiah will be around a ton and you have food. I’m freaking Orphan Annie and I love it here.”

Rachel watches me as she waits for the “but” to my statement and it’s an intense stare.

I suck in a breath and say, “But I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Messing it up. What if I try and I fail? What if I go down this legit route and find out I suck at it?” What if all I am good at is being a drug dealer?

“We all suck at it, Abby. We just lean a little bit more on each other on the bad days and laugh together on the good ones. Today—I hope—is a good day.”

My heart beats hard at the thought of failing, but then lifts at the idea of having people who will catch me on the days I fall. I will fall and they will catch me. I have faith in that.

Logan was right, faith is believing in what you can’t always see and I don’t have to be constantly looking at the people in this house to know I’m in good hands. “Today is definitely a good day.”

A rattle of a cage and my head whips to the other side of the room. Adrenaline races through my veins and I shoot off the bed. “You brought my bunny here?”

“Logan did,” Rachel says I lift the massive fur ball into my arms. “This morning. He wanted Thumper to be here to greet you.”

Another knock on the door, and in slips Mrs. Young. “You have many nice-looking young men wondering where you two are at.”

I clear my throat and stroke Thumper. “Thank you for this. For all of this.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Mrs. Young says. “I went ahead and bought you a few new things and then I thought we could go shopping for more next week. You, me and Rachel. It will be fun.”

I can’t help but smile when Rachel groans.

“That sounds great.” Because even though that sounds like hell for Rachel, shopping with my best friend and her mom really might be fun. Malls—I think I can do malls, without being there to complete a deal.

Rachel pets Thumper, winks at me, and then leaves. Mrs. Young opens the door the rest of the way. “Are you ready to put your past behind you?”

Forget my past? No. I’m grateful to my father, to my Grams. They loved me when nobody else would. Am I ready to begin something new? “Definitely.”

Logan

“That’s just sick, Abby.” In a portion of the finished basement of the Youngs’ house, West kicks Abby’s foot as he passes her then drops into the recliner in front of the large flat-screen television. He tosses an Xbox controller to Noah then turns on the console. “You’re defying the natural order of things.”

On the couch beside me, Abby eats her third plate of food. She had the first two during dinner and she just warmed up this plate a few minutes ago. West is referring to Abby mixing her mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes. It’s odd, but it’s Abby.

“Don’t remember asking for you opinion, Young,” she says.

“Don’t remember saying you could bring a rodent into my house.”

“It’s a bunny, not a rodent and you moved out. I moved in. House rules belong to me now. And his name is Thumper and I’m going to train him to become the general of my bunny armies that are going to take over the world. I had a lot of downtime in juvie so I have this figured out. Better be my friend or you’ll be sorry.”

West’s only response is a grin as he attacks a zombie on the screen. It was his conversations with his mother and father that convinced them to grant Abby the shot she needs to make a decent life for herself.

The party that was loud about an hour before has quieted down. Most of our commotion was from laughter as everyone caught Abby up on what she missed while she was in juvie.

There was a story of how Noah was stuck in some small town in Kansas when his bus broke down on his way to see his now fiancée, Echo, in Colorado. He survived off vending-machine food for over twenty-four hours. Ryan and Beth talked about how they got caught making out in his college team’s dugout. Beth told the story. Ryan was the one that smiled and turned red while she talked.

In the end, everyone had a story. Eager to catch Abby up. Eager for us to start fresh.

It’s late. Chris and his girlfriend Lacy left fifteen minutes ago. Chris is up early and works hard until late. Working on a farm, there’s no day off, but he enjoys it and there’s not much more you can ask out of life than to like your job.

No one else seems eager to leave and the night has moved into a mellowed comfortable state. Noah and West play Xbox games against Ryan and another friend of ours, Jax. I go to school with him, Rachel, Ethan and, starting in January, Abby. Ethan transferred over with Rachel, not wanting to be separated from her. Jax and West are tight and just because of how this group works, we’ve all become family. Rachel, Ethan, Jax, and I found the table Abby had mentally staked in the lunchroom and it’s been ours since the first day, just waiting for her to return.

Leaning on the massive oak bar surrounded by glass hutches, Echo, Beth, and Haley laugh at something Ethan says causing their guys to glance over at the group. The three girls are giving Ethan dating advice. I’ve snorted at over half of it, thinking it sounds insane, but I’d bet girls know better than me what another girl is looking for in a good first date.

A real first date... I pause. I need to take Abby out on one of those. Guess I should start taking notes.

The game on the TV continues, but I don’t miss how Noah’s gaze lingers on Echo. She’s been studying art in Colorado since late August. Noah and I have gotten to know each other better over the past few months. Both of us missing the girls we love.

But Echo is back in town for the Christmas break and the two of them have plans to be married when they graduate from college in two years, and Abby is back in the real world with me. Life has a way of working out.

Abby finishes her food, sets the empty plate on the table, and then scoots closer to me, easing her legs over my lap. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her since she walked in. It’s Abby. Her chestnut hair is longer, her hazel eyes a bit more hesitant, she’s lost some weight, looks like she could sleep for a year, but it’s her. Still gorgeous. Still dangerous. Still Abby.

It’s like she’s a dream and I’m scared to move too quickly or say too much or then she’ll vanish.

“Not really sure what the make-out rule is here,” she admits.

We both look over to the other side of the basement where Isaiah is on another couch with Rachel wrapped around him. Lights are off in that direction and I’d bet their kissing.

“Seems rather loose,” I say.

“All the same,” she says. “I don’t want to mess this one up.”

“You okay if I hold you?” I ask.

Abby releases that heart-stopping smile and slides until she fits perfectly onto my lap. But the moment she settles into me, she jumps and I grab hold of her before she can retreat. I know what she’s thinking, have an idea of what she might have felt.

I permit her to edge away just enough so I can pull up my shirt and expose the pump strapped to my stomach. It’s a few weeks old to me, but other than through email, new to her.

Abby delicately brushes her fingertips against the skin near the insulin pump. “Does it hurt?”

I shake my head, but her touch is burning me up. Going from a few months of not touching her at all to having her scent surrounding me and her warmth teasing me might kill me.