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She leans back against her seat, resting her hands in her lap. “I forgot how
hard it is to have a conversation with you.”
“Then why do you keep trying?”
My mother’s eyes narrow. She’s only ever known the version of me that
was intimidated by her. I’m no longer intimidated. Just angry and
disappointed.
She huffs, and then brings her arms back up to the table, folding them
together. She looks at me pointedly. “I can’t find Josh. I was hoping you’ve
talked to him.”
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen my mother, but I can’t for the
life of me place anyone named Josh. Who the hell is Josh? A new boyfriend
she thinks I should know about? Is she still using drugs?
“He does this all the time but never for this long. They’re threatening to
file truancy charges on me if he doesn’t show back up to school.”
I am so lost. “Who is Josh?”
Her head falls back as if she’s irritated that I’m not following along.
“Josh. Your little brother. He ran away again.”
My… brother?
Brother.
“Did you know parents can go to jail for truancy violations? I’m looking
at jailtime, Atlas.”
“I have a brother?”
“You knew I was pregnant when you ran away.”
I absolutely didn’t know… “I didn’t run away—you kicked me out.” I
don’t know why I clarify that; she’s fully aware of that fact. She’s just trying
to deflect blame. But her kicking me out when she did makes so much more
sense now. They had a baby on the way, and I no longer fit into the picture.
I bring both arms up and clasp my hands behind my head, frustrated.
Shocked. Then I drop them to the table again and lean forward for clarity. “I
have a brother? How old is he? Who’s his… Is he Tim’s son?”
“He’s eleven. And yes, Tim is his father, but he left years ago. I don’t
even know where he lives now.”
I wait for this to fully hit. I was expecting anything and everything but
this. I have so many questions, but the most important thing right now is to
figure out where this kid is. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“About two weeks ago,” she says.
“And you reported it to the police?”