Jackson

I don’t even remember walking up to my room.

One second, Mom was tearing into me in the living room, and the next, I was standing here staring at the floor like it might give me answers.

Her words kept replaying in my head, over and over.

You didn’t even notice what was happening to your own sister.

She wasn’t wrong.

But the way she’d said it — like I’d failed some test I didn’t even know I was taking — it made something in me snap.

I slammed my fist ...