My duffel bag was still zipped. My clothes were on the bed, folded and stacked with retail-quality precision. She’d made the bed, too. Why hadn’t I done that? I closed the door behind me, and kneeled down.


I reached under the bed frame and up, feeling for the hole in the batting that covered the bottom of the box spring. I couldn’t find it at first, and my heart raced. Jesus, if Mom—

My hand closed on the stubbled pistol grip. I pulled out the gun and the oilcloth, and quickly rewrapped it, resisting the urge to look at it.

I kept my back to the door as I unzipped the duffel bag. The loops of sheathed chain were coiled like snakes. I pushed them to the side and tucked the gun into the top of a pair of jeans. The pill bottle was still in its spot at the bottom of the bag.

Three pills. Three fucking pills.

I packed the newly cleaned clothes around and on top of all the incriminating evidence: the bottle, the locks and chains and manacles, the gun. I felt like a terrorist. A Mama’s Boy terrorist, though; my mother had buttoned the collared shirts, double rolled the socks, and even folded my underwear.

I looked around at the room, checked under the bed again, and slung the bag onto my shoulder. It was suspiciously heavy. My mother was in the hallway, coming toward me.

“Do you have everything?”

I glanced back at the room. “I think so.”

“You can always pick it up when you get back. You’re coming back before you leave, right?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll see you in a couple days.” I tried to make it sound casual. We went into the kitchen. Lew was just putting away his phone. I carefully set down the bag—I didn’t want to drop it, in case it clanked—and put an arm around Mom. She was still taller than me—

no shrinking yet. “She folded my underwear,” I said to Lew. “My mom folded my underwear.”

“Big deal. She irons mine.” He looked at me. Last night I’d told him about why I wanted to go into the city, but there was something else in his expression. “You ready now?” he said. Ah. Mom must have told him I’d been with Dr. Aaron.

“I’m waiting on you,” I said.

Mom pulled me into her, hugged me. “Drive safe. I’ll see you in a couple days.”


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