A Home After All

The car pulled into our apartment complex and rolled into its parking spot.

Mom carried the cake box. Dad carefully held the Barbie doll.

They smiled as they went upstairs, whispering about how they would surprise me.

I followed them through the lobby, the elevator, the hallway, and finally through our front door.

The living room lights came on.

"Lily, we're home," Mom called, her voice bright. "Look what Mom and Dad got you!"

No one answered.

Dad placed the Barbie doll on the coffee table, right beside the cracked old one.

Old and new sat side by side like twins.

"Is she asleep?" Mom whispered, tiptoeing toward my room.

I followed her.

She pushed the door open gently. "Lily, honey, Mom's coming in."

The room was silent except for the faint rustle of leaves outside the window.

"Lily? Are you sleeping?" Mom called again, even softer.

She waited a few seconds.

There was no answer. No rustle of blankets.

She turned on the light.

The bed was perfectly made, the comforter folded neatly at the end.

Mom's breathing changed.

"Mark!" Her voice began to shake. "Lily's gone!"

Dad came over, looked into the room, and his face darkened at once.

"She's getting out of control," he snapped, though his voice trembled. "Just because I scolded her, she runs away from home?"

"Keep your voice down." Mom glanced toward Noah and tugged at Dad's sleeve. "Don't scare him."

Dad got louder. "We went to three different stores to find the exact same doll for her. And this is what she does? A little grievance and she runs off? She really has no sense!"

Mom sank onto my bed and touched the smooth, empty sheet. "It's so late. Where could she go?"

"Where else? She's trying to scare us." Dad paced around the room. "Don't worry. She can't get far. Once she's cold and hungry, she'll come back on her own."

Noah stood in the doorway hugging his new remote-control car. "Where did Lily go?"

"Your sister was naughty and sneaked out," Dad said irritably. "Leave her alone. Let her think about what she did."

"But..." Mom tried to speak.

"No buts," Dad cut her off. "You spoil her too much. She's so young and already thinks she can threaten us by running away. What kind of behavior is that?"

From the living room, Noah called, "Mom, I'm hungry. Can I eat cake?"

Mom wiped at her eyes and stood. "Yes. We can eat."

They returned to the living room.

Mom opened the cake box. Bright red strawberries formed a circle on top of the cream.

She cut the cake into four pieces. One for Dad, one for Noah, and then she paused over the slice with the most strawberries.

"This one is for Lily," she said softly.

I watched them sit at the dining table.

Noah ate happily, cream smeared all over his face.

Dad ate in silence, still looking angry.

Mom took tiny bites, but her eyes kept drifting to the front door.

"It's sweet," Noah said. "Is Lily's sweet too?"

"Very sweet." Mom touched his head. "She can have it when she comes back."

But Lily was not coming back.

I wanted to tell them.

I could not make a sound.