“Where are you?” I asked, jerking to a stop.
“In my dorm.”
“You’re safe?”
“Yeah.”
I ground my teeth at her short answers.
“Lock your door and stay there,” I ordered.
“I’m okay, Mor,” she said, her breath hitching as the crying stopped.
“No you’re not,” I argued, my nose stinging. “But I’ll be there soon, okay?”
Once we were off the phone, I hurried to get Etta. It was a nightmare trying to leave my aunt in any kind of rush. Usually I stayed for coffee and visited for a few minutes, but I could barely carry a conversation with the questions and fears running through my head.
The two hours it took between Miranda’s phone call and the minute we started north in my car were some of the longest of my life. I’d succeeded in convincing my dad that I had a few days off for a surprise visit to see my sister, and barely talked him out of riding along, but after that I’d still had to pack, feed Etta dinner, and grab some energy drinks at the corner store before we could get on the road.
By the time we started north on Interstate 5, the sun was starting to set and Etta was getting drowsy in the backseat. I was thankful that she was such an easy kid to travel with, because we’d be driving all night in order to reach my sister as quickly as possible.
I hated that I had to bring Etta with me, but the alternative wasn’t an option. We’d never been apart for more than nine hours while I worked, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. She was still too little to be without me overnight. I guessed if she had another parent it would be different, but it was just me and her. Where I went, she went.
I called my sister once from the road to make sure she was okay, but left her alone after that. She seemed really tired and I was hoping she could get a little rest even if she didn’t actually sleep. Besides, keeping my tired eyes on the road and my foot from pushing the gas pedal all the way to the floorboard took all of my energy anyway.
At three in the morning, after Etta had fallen asleep and we’d stopped for gas twice, I finally reached Miranda’s college campus. It was quieter than I expected. Prettier, too. There were ornamental trees everywhere, and lots of grass, and even the parking lots filled with inexpensive cars were clear of trash and yard debris.
The campus was obviously well taken care of. I wasn’t sure why that mattered to me, but it did. It was kind of comforting knowing that my sister lived and went to school in a nice place. There’d been years where I’d lived in complete dumps while I tried to figure out my life, so I was glad she was figuring hers out in a place that looked like this.
Finding her building was pretty easy since the campus was quiet and I could drive as slowly as I needed in order to read the well-placed signs on every corner. Finding a parking spot that didn’t have a reserved sign on it was a little harder, but I managed. By that time I was so antsy to get out of the car and find my sister I’d have parked on the manicured grass if I hadn’t found something pretty quickly.
I lugged sleeping Etta and our bag into Ranna’s building using the code she’d texted to open the front door, then followed even more well-placed signs to her room on the second floor.
And then I just stopped, frozen. I needed to get to her, to touch her and make sure she was okay, but a part of me was dreading the moment she opened that door and I had to face whatever it was that had made her need me there.
Finally, I lifted my hand and knocked using the rhythm we’d used as kids that let her know it was safe to open the door. I hadn’t had to use it in more years than I could even remember. It took her almost a minute to come to the door and when she opened it, surprise and relief made me sway a little on my feet.
She was wearing a pair of my dad’s old pajama pants and an oversized hoodie, and her hair was sticking up at all angles, but she looked fine. Haggard and sad, but physically I couldn’t see anything wrong with her. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of the hoodie and her long toes with chipped blue polish were peeking out of the hem of the pajamas, curled into the ugly brown carpet in a way that had always reminded me of a baby monkey. Everything seemed almost normal. It wasn’t until she opened her mouth that every horrible thought that had run through my head in almost seven hours of driving was confirmed.