Having my attorney get Caden to back off for a day was genius. Tomorrow we'll say she's still sick and that he can pick her up on Saturday. By then we'll be long gone. It's not like he could know, right? No one knows we're gone. Brad's got that thing later tonight. He'll probably be too drunk to notice I'm not even in bed. 
Maybe I should text him. No, better to stay off his radar for the night. 
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I knew what would help—the pills in my purse would steady them, would make everything clear again. Just one. Maybe two.
No. I'd already taken... how many today? Where was I when I took the last one? Was it at McDonalds? Before that? Why can't I remember?  
I turned off the water with trembling hands. The McDonald's employee—the way he'd looked at us, tried to talk to Macy. Creep. Trying to talk to my daughter. I shouldn't have stopped there for dinner. What's one meal? We could have skipped it and just eaten the chips from the gas station. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
"It's okay," I whispered to my reflection in the foggy mirror. My eyes looked wrong—pupils too small, shadows too dark. When had I gotten so thin? "She's your daughter, not that woman's. It's your job to protect her. They can't tell you what you can do."
But through the haze, I didn't really know why I cared anymore—if I cared anymore.
I wrapped myself in the threadbare towel they provide, and opened the bathroom door. Macy was sitting on the bed, her back to me, unnaturally still.
"Macy? What are you doing?" Her stillness made me pause. She was quiet. Too quiet. 
"Just sitting." Her voice was strange. Guilty?
My heart began to race—or maybe it had been racing all along. The pills did that sometimes. If I hadn't run out earlier this week before I could get my refill yesterday morning, it wouldn't be this bad. It's always worse then. It'll get better. It'll be better. 
"We need to get a good night's sleep. We're going to leave early tomorrow, for our adventure."
"I want to go home."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Home. Where Caden was probably sitting with that woman, playing happy family in my house, with my daughter.
No. I couldn't let him poison Macy against me too.
"That's not... we can't..." My voice cracked. I was so tired. When had I last really slept? The pills kept me going but real sleep... I wish I had a glass of wine—that would help too. "Why don't you watch some TV while I figure things out?"
I clicked on the television, some cartoon filling the room with artificial brightness. Macy settled back against the pillows, but I could feel her watching me.
I started pacing. Five steps to the window. Five steps back. The room was so small. Why was it so small? I needed to put some clothes on. The AC was making my skin itch. I threw on my Eberjey pajamas, needing the soft comfort of the jersey fabric. Rubbing my arms, my hands were shaking. I need to go lie down. Maybe that would help.
Crawling under the covers, I looked over at Macy. Why does everything have to be so complicated? I wonder what Brad is doing. He probably thinks I'm crazy. I'm not. I don't think I am. The pills help—thank God I started taking them last year. Before that, everything was just noise. Now at least I can breathe.
I stood up again. I need something. What do I need? Okay, I'm grabbing my pills. Just one. This is why I—where's my water? Damnit. "Macy! Where's my water?"
She looked at me, shock on her face, and whispered "I don't know, Mom."
I started tossing things around. I need water to take my pills. Fuck it, I'll use the water from the bathroom sink tap. 
I took one. That should be enough to take the edge off. I went back and took a second. Settling in on my bed, I watched TV with Macy. Within fifteen minutes I felt like a new woman.
Tomorrow we'll drive to the next state. Maybe find a nice town where nobody knows us. I have enough cash for a few weeks, maybe a month if we are careful. Long enough for Caden to realize what he's lost—if he wants to see Macy again, then he needs to pay for it.
I sighed, looked over at my daughter. "We'll leave first thing in the morning, okay honey? Get some sleep." 
"I'm not tired."
"Please, Macy. Just... please. Let's just get some sleep, okay? I promise things will be better in the morning." I hated the desperation in my own voice. 
Now I was begging my eleven-year-old daughter to pretend everything was normal—while we hid in a roach motel that smelled like cigarettes and broken dreams.
I have enough pills to last about another week... I think. I need to figure out how to solve for that.
I closed my eyes and could feel myself nodding off. 
Then I heard it... Bang, Bang, Bang! Jessica Jensen, this is the Police. Open up!