Caleb

walk toward my house, the biggest one on the entire block. Maggie's house, next door, is practically dwarfed by ours.

I follow the brick sidewalk that my dad and I laid three years ago up to the front door. My house looks familiar and yet ... in some ways totally foreign to me. I notice the paint peeling off of the wood trim. One of the gutters is falling off, and no flowers have been planted out front. My mom used to plant them every summer. She said it made our house look like a home.

She was right.

I take a deep breath and focus on the front door.

How do you come back home after running away? If I open the door and just walk in like I used to, they'll think I'm an intruder. A stranger.

Will they treat me like one once they take a look at me?

I look back down the street, wondering if I should retreat and forget coming home. I can just retrace my steps and disappear again. Nobody would know, and it would be easier than dealing with the drama about to unfold. But disappearing would be the coward's way out.

I'm not a coward.

Not anymore, at least.

I put my duffle down and ring the doorbell. My pulse is racing a billion times a second, like I just ran a marathon. Different scenarios about how my parents and sister will react are flying through my head.

I hear footsteps. Is it my mom, dad, or Leah? I don't have time to think about it too long because the door opens and my sister is standing in front of me.

My twin sister.

The one I went to jail for. She's still got dyed-black hair, light brown at the roots, but her clothes aren't as freaky as when I left. Instead of chains dripping off her jeans, she's wearing normal jeans. Her shirt is black to match her hair.

The last time I saw her she looked like death. Her hair was black, her nails were black, and her mood matched her black clothes. It freaked me out at first, but then it pissed me off. I was the one who went to jail so she'd live an easy life at home. How dare she become a recluse and change her appearance and attitude and live like the dead? She had no right ...

At least her nails aren't black, and she's not wearing black eyeliner and black lipstick. It's a big improvement.

My throat goes dry at the same time tears flood her eyes.

"Caleb," she squeaks out. "You came back."

"For a little while, at least," I manage to say.

When I came home from jail, Leah had catapulted herself into my arms and hugged me tight. Not this time. She's definitely keeping her distance. Does she think I'm a ghost or that I'll suddenly disappear if she gets close?

"Maggie said she was going to urge you to come home, but I didn't believe her." Her hands are stiff at her sides. "I can't believe you're here."

"Well, believe it." I crane my head to see if there's anyone else home. "Yeah, so, uh ... can I come in?"

She opens the door wider and steps back. "Yeah," she says slowly. "Umm, Dad's not home."

"Where is he?" I ask as I step into the foyer.

Leah starts biting on one of her fingernails nervously. "He went to visit Mom."

"Visit Mom? She's in rehab right now?" Oh, hell. Maybe it's worse than I thought.

"She's been there awhile. It's not her first time."

I let out a slow breath. "All right." I can deal with this, but... "Anything else I need to know about?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, Leah." I'm on edge and want answers. Will she give them to me? "Is Dad coping with things okay? What's your story these days?" Man, why did I say that? I don't want to confront her when I haven't even been back for five minutes. "Forget I asked that last part."

Leah opens her mouth to say something, then closes it.

"I invited a friend to stay over," I say.

"Who?"

"His name's Lenny. If a guy who needs a haircut and wears a green T-shirt that says I'm Your Daddy rings the doorbell, assume it's him." I couldn't leave Lenny out on the streets. When he isn't trying his best to be a complete asshole, he's not so repulsive. He even insisted on giving me a couple hours to get reacquainted with my family before he came in.

I take my duffle and head up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Leah asks, her voice clearly in a panic.

"To my room."

"Wait!" Leah yells, but it's too late.

I open the door to my room. Or what used to be my room. It's been turned into an office. No bed, no curtains, no closet full of clothes. Wow, they even got rid of my trophies. No sign of me anywhere.

In eight months all evidence of my life has been erased.

I have a feeling coming back here was the biggest mistake of my life.