I sit at the kitchen table numbly as the locksmith replaces the deadbolt on the front door. My vision volleys back and forth from the clock on the stove to the missed call and unanswered text from Austin on my phone.

"Alright," The locksmith grunts, standing from his crouched position. "That should do it."

"Thank you," I murmur quietly, sliding a few bills across the table.

He takes the stack, glancing back at the door and hesitating before stuffing it in the breast pocket of his work shirt. I beg him with my eyes not to ask any questions and he silently agrees, grabbing his tool box and quickly letting himself out with a nod goodbye.

The minute the door clicks shut I slump in my seat, my shoulders dropping in defeat. My head spins, thoughts racing and ranging from what to tell Austin to where hell my mom could possibly be hiding.

And unless I want to get kicked to the curb, I need to find her and have her sign those divorce papers. Now.

I tap my fingers against the surface of the dining table and stare at my phone. Taking a deep breath, I come to a snap decision and pick it up, typing out a quick text to Austin and hitting send before I can cop out.

I drop my phone like it's on fire, guilt turning over in my stomach but the damage is done. I've officially lied to my boyfriend.

You're doing it for his own good, I mentally chastise myself. He's already got enough on his plate right now, he doesn't need something else. You can handle this on your own.

But he wouldn't want you to. That's the kind of person he is, remember?

I glance at the front door, the evidence of the splintered wood no longer visible due to the locksmith sanding it down for an extra $50. Distaste for the fucked up situation I'd been reluctantly plonked into swirls on my tongue. I know damn well that if I tell Austin what happened he'll try to rush home, but I refuse to let him do that, not when he's supposed to be picking up his dying father from prison tomorrow.

As long as I can find my mom and have her sign the papers before Austin gets home, he'll never have to know about my dad's B&E stunt.

It's for his own good.

——

As I step across the street into the dirtiest, seediest part of Memphis, the hair on my arms and back of my neck stand at end. A street of abandoned buildings so tall they block the sun sit dark and secluded from the rest of town, the only establishments open being a liquor store and a 24 hour convenience store.

I bypass broken shards of glass and a homeless guy sleeping on the sidewalk as I make my way towards the liquor store. Flashbacks assault me and for a split second I'm zapped back to my childhood, myself and a crying Savannah locked inside our old hunker of a car (that ended up getting repossessed a few short weeks later) while we watched our parents argue in the middle of this very street.

Drugs. They were always arguing about fucking drugs. And here I am years later, still plagued by the same constant that completely wrecked my upbringing. Or maybe it was doomed from the start, since my father had first laid hands on illegal substances long before he met my mother and knocked her up.

When I glance over and see a very obvious drug deal taking place, I hastily avert my gaze and walk a little faster, my anxiety so high that I practically fling the cracked glass door off the hinges with how fast I open it.

I mentally will my brain to shut the fuck up when it tries to remind me that seven months ago I stood in this very store and had to pay the cost for an armful of liquor that my mom had somehow managed to steal during one of her benders. The owner, an overweight guy by the name of "Big Al" with a graying beard so long that it reaches down to his chest, rolls his eyes when I sheepishly step up to the counter.

Al crosses his arms and peers at me over his wire-framed glasses. "Whaddya doin' back here, kid?"

I pull my phone from my back pocket and show him the screen, a photo of my mom staring up at him. "I'm looking for my mom. Has she stopped by recently?"

Al grunts. "No and she damn well knows not to after that stunt she pulled. 'Sides, I don't need you to remind me what she looks like."

I frown at him in confusion. Realization dawns on me when he flicks his chin towards the bulletin board behind him. There, staring back at me, is a mugshot of my mother from earlier this year. Her hair hangs limp around her face, makeup dark and messy around her eyes, and a miserable, mean frown on her face. A sign with the words "Do Not Sell" hangs above her picture and a row of others.

Embarrassment floods me. A whoosh of air leaves my lips and I quietly say, "I'm sorry. If she- If you see her, will you please tell her I'm looking for her? Can I leave my number with you? It's really important that I find her."

"She got a warrant? There a reward for bringing her in?" He inquires, his curiosity peaked.

"No," I sigh. "No warrant. Just a concerned daughter. Can I leave my number with you?"

Al's gaze roams my face and he must see the urgency written across it, because he reluctantly nods and passes me a sticky note and a pen from a cup on the counter.

I quickly scribble down my name and number and pass it to him. "Thank you. If you see or hear anything, please call."

"Sure, kid. Good luck to ya."

I was sure as hell gonna need it.

——

My mother has somehow seemingly vanished into thin air without a trace of where she might be.

All of the bars and liquor stores she frequents? No sight of her.

Dina's trailer? Trashed and empty.

Seedy hotels, local hospitals, and the county jail? Not there, thank God.

But still, where the fuck had she wandered off too? All I can do is wait at home with baited breath and my phone in hand, a clock mentally looming over my head and ticking away. I have two weeks to find her, and if I don't, then things are going to get real fucked up real fast.

Collapsing onto my bed, I bring my hands over my face, tiredly rubbing at my eyes. The sound of the shower turning on sends another wave of worries through me. All those years of Savannah busting her ass to get into college could possibly be going down the drain if dad gives us the boot. That would fucking crush her, and it'd absolutely destroy me. The chance of her ever resenting me was painful to even think about.

I can live without my mom and dad considering they'd checked out mentally since the second I was born. But a life without Sav, my baby sister, my best fucking friend? I wouldn't be able to handle it.

The stress of today hits me all at once. Tears sting the backs of my eyelids. My chest tightens painfully, a panic attack crawling it's way up my throat. I take a deep breath, sighing through my nose, trying to calm myself down.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I lift my hips, reaching for it blindly.

"God," I heave miserably when I see Austin's name flashing across the front. Always there right when I fucking need him, even when he didn't know it.

I sniffle and clear my throat before answering his call. I'm careful to make sure my voice doesn't shake. "Hello?"

"Hey, you," His deep voice washes over the line. "You sound tired. How was your day?"

My eyes flutter closed. Guilt stirs low in my gut. It's Austin. Of course he's asking how I am before I can even think to ask him that first, all things considered.

"Busy. Long and stressful," I sigh. "What about you? Are you settling in okay?"

"Yeah," He laughs, and it makes my heart race spike. "Reed didn't clean his guest room so I'm stuck on the couch for tonight. He's a nasty fucker so I wasn't chancing it."

A sad smile tugs at my lips. "How are you feeling? Is all the paperwork finished and everything?"

"For now, yeah. Gonna get the last of it done when we pick him up tomorrow. I'm tired as fuck from all the driving today and we have to be at the prison at seven tomorrow," He says, yawning.

"Nervous?" I ask quietly.

He's quiet for a moment. "A little. More sad than anything."

My heart breaks for him.

"It's like, I'm finally meeting him after so long, so it feels like this is gonna be a chance to build a relationship with him, ya know? But then I remember why he's getting released in the first place and it hits me that by the time we actually have that relationship he's gonna be..." He trails off. "It just fucking sucks that I've finally got him yet I'm gonna lose him within months, maybe even weeks."

"But at least you know the truth after all these years," I tell him. "You know how badly he wants this, and you do too, even if you didn't think so at first. It's gonna be hard. But when the time comes to say goodbye, you'll know that he loved you. Spending your last moments with the people you love... that's a hell of a way to go, isn't it?"

Austin is quiet on the other end. He clears his throat and rasps, "I wish you were here. Doing this with me. Meeting him. Holding my fuckin' hand."

My heart damn near pangs out of my chest. "Me too." I say quietly.

For a split second, I let myself imagine fleeing Memphis and taking on New Orleans with Austin's hand in mine and Savannah by my side. Away from the bullshit, from my mom and dad. Just as quick, reality reminds me that it's not possible.

"We gotta schedule a college tour for Sav, show her around Tulane. Maybe we can come back sometime in the winter, make a trip out of it," Austin suggests.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "She'd like that."

"You okay, baby? You sound off."

I fake a yawn. "The days finally catching up to me, I think. I'm gonna head to bed soon."

"Don't work yourself too hard, alright? Take a day off if you get too tired," He says, concern lacing his tone.

"I'm fine," I reassure him. "Just need something to occupy my time while you're gone," I tease.

I can practically hear his smirk through the phone. "That your way of saying you miss me?"

"Maybe."

Austin laughs. "I miss you too. I'll call you tomorrow, let you know how everything goes. Tell Savannah I said 'Hey.'"

"I will. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Night, baby."

I end the call and drape my forearm across my face, sighing heavily, my mind on one thing. Well, two.

I need a plan, and I need to find my mom. Fast.

——

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