I wake up before Jason and watch him sleeping on the floor, his mouth open and one arm above his head, the other over his stomach. His gentle breathing continues as I stare in wonder while trying to believe he meant those things he said. He seemed sincere and I feel light inside, like maybe God’s smiling at me for once.

I know I have to talk to Simone. I’m hoping she’ll be able to confess again that he doesn’t mean anything to her other than someone she needs for her music. And maybe she’ll give me her blessing and let me stay here for a week or so. Just to be with him.

Be with Jason.

What a wild thought.

Groans from his bed in the far corner of the loft make me rise up, carefully slipping off the couch to check on Bernie. “Jason,” I hear her moan before I’m around the divider. As I come into view she frowns in confusion. “Who’re you?” She’s clawing at her legs, and one is twitching. No, both are. I’ve seen this before in my brother.

“I’m Sarah. I was here last night with some other friends, when you arrived. Are you in pain?”

“Fucking hurts. Where’s my purse?”

“Jason put it somewhere. But there weren’t any more drugs in it anyway.” Off her look I sit on the bed, my hands clasped over my lap. “I know that’s what you want.”

She attempts getting up and hisses, “You know nothing about me.”

“My brother is an addict.”

She looks at me like an animal cornered in a cage, wondering if it can trust the person with the key.

“I’ve been with him when he was in withdrawals, like what you’re going through now.” Gritting her teeth, she waits for me to continue. Or maybe she has nothing to say. So I go on, “He’s clean now. He has a small store in Detroit, where I live. Sells comic books. Graphic novels. Toys. Things he loves. He’s doing well. Been clean for years.”

“Good for him,” she mutters, pushing at her legs and rolling on her side.

But I know I saw a spark behind her eyes. “Jealousy’s a map.”

“What?!” she growls.

“I saw the look you just had. It was jealousy. And you know…it’s a map,” I repeat.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jealousy shows us what we want. When I said my brother has his life back, and is doing something he loves, you got jealous.”

“I was angry that you’re talking to me!”

With patience disguising my compassion I shake my head and hold her eyes. She was once beautiful. It’s hard to see with her skin so gaunt and her hair thin like it is now, but the ghost of what she once looked like is evident in her bone structure, and you can just tell she was gorgeous.

“Anger is a mask that covers other emotions. Hurt. Pain. Jealousy. You can have your life back just like he does. Wanna know how I know that?” She just stares at me, but she’s still listening, so I continue, “Because we all gave up on Nathan. He overdosed four times, but didn’t die. God didn’t give up on him like we did. And deep in my brother’s heart, Nathan didn’t give up on himself. Even when he stole to get the heroin, beat people up, and took money from a church, he still believed that he could be better than that. That he could have a life. That he wouldn’t have to be in pain all the time. And so one day after writing with his own blood on a wall, God, don’t leave me, he passed out. The owner of the hotel found him. And you know what was crazy? The owner’s sister was an addict, so he didn’t judge my brother or turn his back. Instead he knew exactly where to take him, the same place his sister had gone five years before to get her children back. And she’d stayed sober, so the owner thought Nathan might have a chance, too.”

Tears are in Bernie’s eyes. Shaking her head, she chokes, “I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of failing.”

I reach over and take her hand. “We’re all afraid of that. But aren’t you failing now? Wouldn’t it be better to try a different way? Maybe if you do, and you fail a couple times at getting sober, then one day you’ll succeed? Or hell, maybe you’ll succeed the first try? Crazier things have happened.”

Pain contorts her face and she grips my hand so hard it hurts, but I don’t let go.

Jason steps around the divider, his hands in his pockets of the jeans he slept in. His pale green eyes glance from me to Bernie. She starts to weep and he goes to her. I stand and back up to give them space as he takes her in his arms. “Jason, I want to try to get clean,” she says through wracking sobs. “I can’t do this anymore. I was so scared last night. He made me do the needles. I never wanted to do needles! They’re so awful and I couldn’t say no. I tried but I couldn’t!”

“Shhh…it’s okay. He’s gone now. He’s gone. I’m here. You’re safe.”