Chapter 6

“Out,” she said.

“Miss Baxter, please.”

“Out.” This time she pointed to the door to illustrate.

I didn’t get up. Realistically, I didn’t know where I would go. I sat there on the edge of my bed, staring at my feet, and trying to think of something appropriate to say. I hadn’t come up with anything yet.

“You could have burned the house down.” Miss Baxter had stopped pointing to the door and turned to face me. I only knew this, because I was looking at the toes of her shoes now instead of the heels.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Do not speak, young lady.” Her clipped words stung my ears. “You left the stove on while you were popping pills. You slept through the smoke alarm.”

She was pacing now. I watched her feet cutting a path on the floor and imagined her scowling, with her hands on her hips, but I wasn’t about to look up to see if I was right. She stopped moving.

“You’re supposed to be in treatment for this,” she said. “If I hadn’t been here, you could have died.”