Lassa returned on Saturday morning.

Freya was practicing her guitar in her room when she heard the BMW pull up. Her first instinct was to find somewhere to hide. But there was no hiding from this. She would have to face her mother. Freya put the Ovation back in its case and slid it out of sight under her bed. There was no telling what Lassa might do. It was a long time before she heard the car door shut.

Freya listened to her mother moving through the house, keys jingling as she hung them on the hook by the door, her shoes on the hardwood in the foyer, and then silence once she took her shoes off.

The house was so silent Freya could hear the footsteps of Lassa’s bare feet in the hall outside. She expected her mother to come into her room, but Lassa walked right past without even glancing in at her, something under her arm.

The footsteps continued down the hall to Lassa’s room. Her mother’s door opened and shut. After some movement and a brief silence, Freya heard the squeak of the faucet handles and the sound of the shower through the walls.

Was she not going to talk to Freya? Not even acknowledge she’d been gone for days? Freya had dreaded the confrontation, but now she realized the lack of one was far worse. Were they just going to ignore each other forever?

The shower took a long time, and Freya felt paralyzed. She couldn’t start practicing again or read a book. She thought about just hopping on her bike and riding off, but that would only make things worse. She heard the taps cut off and the sound of the blow dryer.

Time seemed frozen as she waited. Footsteps in the hall, Lassa walked past without even looking in at her. Soon, the rattle of keys sounded again, and she realized Lassa was about to leave.

Freya had to say something. She couldn’t take this. She went to the foyer and found Lassa lacing up her hiking boots on the little bench by the door. A backpack rested beside her. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She didn’t look at Freya. When she finished with her laces, she stood and turned to the door, about to leave. There were shadows under her eyes, and it looked like she hadn’t been sleeping much either.

“Hey! Wait.”

Lassa turned slowly and stared at Freya.

“I’m sorry,” Freya apologized again.

“You said that.” Lassa bent and picked up the backpack and hung it over her shoulder. When Freya had no answer for her, she turned back to the door. She was halfway through it before Freya called out to her.

“Are you just going to be like this forever? I said I was sorry. What do you want from me?”

Lassa paused in the doorway and looked back at Freya. She was letting all the heat out. If the positions were reversed, Freya would be getting scolded. But Lassa’s rules didn’t apply to Lassa.

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“Stop apologizing. You meant what you said. You weren’t wrong.”

“It was a shitty thing to say. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I was just upset. I really am sorry,” Freya said.

“Don’t be. I needed to hear it. It’s just taking me…” Lassa paused again. It was so strange to see her struggling for words. She always knew what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it.

“I’ve felt out of sorts since the thing at your school. I feel like I just keep getting tighter and tighter.” Lassa held a fist over her chest. “Like all my edges keep getting sharper, and I’m cutting apart everything I touch.”

Freya was struck by her mother’s words. They might have been her own. But she couldn’t say that. Lassa would respond poorly if she tried to relate.

“I only relax when I’m drinking. I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad. I can see it’s a problem, and I’m stopping.”

There was a long pause between them where neither of them knew what to say.

“Dr. Garbuglio is actually good. He’s helping some,” Freya angled, and it was an awful mistake. Like a flower closing, Lassa shut her out.

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear that,” Lassa said, with effort. She understood what Freya was suggesting, and she had rejected it. “You stopped taking the Lunesta. Is that going okay?”

“I’ve just been running at night until I get tired.”

“Every night?” Lassa asked, and Freya nodded. “How far?”

“Five miles the first night, three the last few nights. It really works. It was Vitko’s idea.”

“That’s great!” Lassa brightened. “I’m glad you’re listening to him. That man knows what he’s doing.” She was about to say something else, but whatever the next thought was, it was as if a cloud had passed over her. She took a deep breath and glanced at the door.

“I have to go. I’m going to spend some time walking, try to figure things out. Will you be okay without me for a few days?”

I have been so far, Freya wanted to reply, but she kept her mouth shut. Somehow, Lassa still seemed to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” Lassa said.

“It’s okay.”

There was a moment where they could have embraced, but they didn’t. Lassa left with her backpack. Freya was still standing in the foyer with the cold seeping into the house. The BMW disappeared down the driveway, and Lassa was gone. Freya shut the front door. Her mother hadn’t looked back. It felt like she might not return.

Freya went back to her room and took the Ovation out of its case. She was too upset to practice and just stared at the guitar. She looked at the tuning pegs and thought about how Lassa said she felt tighter and tighter. Something kept bugging her about the way Lassa had gone straight to her room like she was hiding something. Freya remembered she’d carried something under her arm. She had a good idea of what it was.

Freya shut the case and latched it. She walked down the hall to Lassa’s room and padded inside, alert for the sound of a car in the driveway. If Lassa had forgotten something and found Freya in her room when she returned, it would be a huge deal.

The air in Lassa’s room was humid from her shower. Freya went into the closet and looked on the top shelf. The case with Randall’s gun was back in place. Freya took it off the shelf and shook it gently, the gun was still inside. The bright yellow cable lock was gone. She was afraid to open it up.

Freya became more and more afraid Lassa would come home and see the light on in her room. She carefully set the case back, making sure she hadn’t disturbed anything. She turned off the light and went back to her room.

Lassa hadn’t taken the gun because she was worried about Freya.

She’d taken it for herself.