"Stevie, get down here now," Judith shouts from the first floor with Vera beside her in her sleepwear. They listen to the gentle thump of his footsteps approaching, both gazing up the curved staircase.

"What," he yells, and she blinks back from surprise. He stops at the top of the stairs and leans against the railing, wearing flannel pajamas as well.

"First of all, don't raise your voice at me," she scolds him, and he scoffs as he rolls his eyes. "Where's Vera's hamster?"

"Am I my sister's pet's keeper," he sarcastically asks, and Judy sucks in a breath to react to his snide comment, but Vera cuts in.

"I know you took Jackie," Vera hollers at him, and a thick vein appears on the side of her neck. Her hands are balled into fists, and her body is trembling with rage.

"I didn't, but maybe I oughta," Stevie tells her. His twin scrunches her lips and narrows her eyes at him. "You only named that rat Jackie because you know I like Jackie Robinson!"

"Okay, both of you cut it out," Judith tries to calm them, but it's to no avail.

"I did not! I named him after Jackie Jackson, and if you don't hand him over, I'll give you a knuckle sandwich worse than Kenickie did!" When he sniggers at her threat, her face relaxes.

Who's Kenickie?

With a scream that resembles a war cry – startling Judy – she dashes up the steps. He sprints down the hall, and Judy darts her gaze from one to the other.

"Hey," she repeatedly calls for them in panic, hurrying behind her sister. "Stop before I get Dad's belt!"

Vera bolts into Stevie's room with him, slamming the door behind her. Judith's chest crashes against it, and a wave of throbbing and stinging pulsates around her breastplate, but she doesn't stop to attend to it.

"Get away from me," Stevie yells before releasing a blood-curdling scream. Judith takes the knob in her hand and turns it. "Stop!"

"Give him back, or you can kiss your stupid card goodbye!" Judy shoves the door open and stands on the threshold. They whip their heads to her, and she sees them in the middle of his floor.

Vera has a baseball card in her left hand, a pair of lime green scissors in her right, and a stone-cold look etched on her face as if she's done this before.

But Stevie is visibly terrified. His fingers are twitching at his sides as he fights the urge to hit his twin sister, and he's staring at Judy for help.

"Vera, put his card and his scissors down and get over here, now," Judith orders her with a stern voice, but she shakes her head no. She raises her eyebrow at her response.

"I'm sorry, Judy, but I know he took Jackie." Stevie solemnly scoffs. "That hamster is all I have left, and I'm sorry, but I'll cut this thing in pasta shreds."

"Put his card and his scissors down – now," she repeats. "Or I swear to God, Vera, I'll whup you. That hamster is somewhere in this house, I'm sure, and I'll help you find it, but if you don't listen to me, you'll stay in your room until Ma gets back."

She looks at her twin brother, and he extends his hands to her. She looks down at them, then into his dark irises, hesitantly and slowly releasing the scissors and his Jackie Robinson card into each hand.

"Good," Judith encourages her with a gentle sigh. She reaches her right hand out and ushers her closer though Vera's not looking. "Let's try checking in your room."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Vera says as she walks toward her with her face forward. "It smells really bad in there."

She steps past her older sister, who's watching Stevie hug the card to his chest with tears resting on the brims of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Judith approaches with her eyebrows together. He sniffles his hanging head upward and his chest jolts. He lifts the card to her eye level, and she squints at the little tear on its left side. "Oh, um, okay, that's not so bad. I'll get some tape from downstairs after I finish helping Vera, okay?"

"I didn't take her hamster," he says, then looks past her at his sister under the arch. Judy purses her lips before blowing air from her nose.

"I believe you, but until we find it, please stay away from her. You know how she is when she has something set in her mind." They silently look at each other for a moment, then she clears her throat and follows Vera into the hall.

"I checked Ma's room everywhere, and I checked your room." Judith immediately glares at her when she mentions being in her room. "I even went downstairs into the guest bathroom, and he wasn't there either."

"Why'd you go in my room?" Vera meets her death stare, and her lips fall agape. "I told you both not to go in there. Why'd you go in my room?"

"I – I was only looking for Jackie," she stammers, but the anger in her irises doesn't subside. "I didn't touch your stuff, I swear."

"Next time, wait for me to get back, and I'll check my room for you," Judith says with a forced smile, and Vera nods, reciprocating the disingenuous grin. "So – when'd you, uh, get the hamster?"

"Today, actually." They stop in front of Vera's bedroom door. "Mom got tired of hearing Stevie whine about wanting a pet rock, so while we were riding around looking for the store I got mine from, I saw a pet store, and she bought me this tiny hamster they call a Roborovski, I think."

Judith turns the knob and nudges the door open, revealing a pink room that gradually shifted from the reflection of a prepubescent girl to a sloppy man who found solace where she once did.

His shirts, pants, and socks lay scattered across her once-pristine floor with a smell that can only be described as cheese rotting in the walls.

"Oh," Judy lets out a shuddering sigh before clutching her nose with Vera.

"Yeah," she nasally says while nodding. "I told you it was pretty gnarly in here. I accepted it a long time ago as just an old person thing."

"Grandma Ida and Lottie are – were – cleaner than this. No, he's just a gross old man." She takes her cautious first step into what once was her sister's room, and she stands at the foot of her pink bed, which is set close to the door.

Judith drops to her palms and knees. She pushes the lily-white bed skirt to better peek under the box spring. Vera raises her head to peer over the edge of her rail at her sister, not wanting to step in and be stricken by the unexplained stench.

"Do you see him," she asks, and Judy stands to her feet, then shakes her head. Vera's eyebrows and the corners of her mouth droop with despair. She draws in a breath to speak again, but the sound of knocking on the front door silences her.

Vera looks at the stairs, and Judy looks at the wall beside the open door. As her younger sister returns her gaze to her, she inches closer to the arch.

"It's probably Uncle Rembrandt or Mom." They walk down the hall, and when they reach the stairs, Stevie peeks his head out of his room.

He watches them descend to the first floor before stepping over the threshold, and as they continue toward the front door, he inches toward the railing. Streams of tears rest on his cheeks, and droplets sit on his lower lashes which he wipes away with the back of his hands.

Judith opens the door with her little sister close behind her, then rolls her eyes when she sees Jerome standing on her porch with his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

"What do you want?" He smiles at her, ignoring her annoyed tone. She glances at her bookbag on his left shoulder, then at him again.

"Well, I wanted to say Hi," he tells her, and she folds her arms. Vera switches her irises from one to the other, watching him through the small gap between the frame's edge. "I talked to Dean O'Connell, and he said you'll just have to pay a fine but luckily for you, no jail time."

He chuckles dryly, but she fails to find the humor in her situation. Judith looks at her sister and asks, "Did you do your homework?"

"No?" Judith nudges her head to the staircase to dismiss her, and Vera returns to them. She watches her walk to the second floor, passing Stevie with narrowed eyes, and when she's out of sight, she turns to Jerome.

"Why're you here," she calmly asks him. "I thought you and your friends don't come home until the weekends."

"Well, usually that's the case, but the Dean made everyone leave," Jerome explains. "Even those who pretty much live there. He's afraid of some fight breaking out, but I mean, emptying the campus of people won't prevent a riot."

"Why didn't you help me?" He furrows his eyebrows at her question. "I was protesting for what felt like hours with Cyrus and Juniper, and where were you? Oh, I know! Hiding in the student lounge, watching us like some stupid sideshow!"

"I told you it wasn't a good idea." She wrinkles the skin above her nose from confusion, matching his expression. "But you never listen to a thing I say."

"You didn't!" He rolls his eyes upward. "I clearly remember you promising to join us if you had time!"

"Oh," Jerome mumbles when he recalls his broken promise. He glances at her parted lips, then into her irate eyes. "Well – what good would I have done there? It didn't end well, as you see."

"Wow, you're unbelievable," she tells him, and he looks from left to right without moving his head. Noticing his confusion, she continues, "Who cares about the negative? I just – I needed you."

He notices the delay before her last statement and sighs.

"You needed me?" Judith lowers her chin to her chest and stares at her shoes. He takes her jaw gently in his fingers and lifts her gaze back onto his. "I needed you too. That's why I'm here."

Though his dark brown eyes are softer and appreciative, she refuses to look at him for long. His arm returns to his side, and he takes a deep breath.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "The guys thought the act was stupid, figuring you were stirring up trouble."

"And I'm sure you agree with them." Judith crosses her arms when she looks into his soft irises. Jerome glances at the balls of her wrists, then downward as his right-hand drops into his pocket. He lifts a knife with an antique oak handle and holds it in the space between them. 007 is etched on the wood finish, and it catches her attention. "What's this?"

"I remember you saying you hated that you couldn't protect yourself," he recalls, and she looks at him. "So I bought this with a piece of my last check."

"I can't take this," Judith tells him while shaking her head and pushing the closed weapon closer to him. He glances at it before giving her a confused look. "It's way too expensive, and you shouldn't blow your money on something so frivolous."

"Frivolous," Jerome repeats in a lower voice.

"We're not dating." She chuckles awkwardly and watches him drop his attention onto her shoes. "So buying me this is kinda – forward. Besides, you didn't win the prize money for that game, so whatever you earn from work should be saved."

"This wasn't that expensive, Judy, trust me. I didn't wanna have to say it, but it's true." He straightens his posture,  then presents the knife to her again. "And as for us dating, maybe on Friday, I can take you to the movies. They're showing Nosferatu for the fifth time this month."

He lightly chuckles though his face displays his nervousness. Judith pulls her lips into her mouth, licks them, then clears her throat.

"I'll think about it." She looks behind him at her father's approaching citron and her eyes, which flicker wider, follow it into the driveway. Without her gaze on him, she warns, "You should leave."

He turns his head to the left, then at her again before slipping the knife into her hands. Judith drops her chin to her chest to look at the heavy metal hugged by her delicate fingers, then at him as he drops her bag at her feet. He backs away.

With a nod and a forced smile, he speed walks down the path just as Sheryl shuts the engine off. She steps out of the car with weariness plastered on her sunken face.

She mopes toward the porch with her dim eyes watching her feet lug her, and when she silently steps past Judith, the sour smell of alcohol stings the inside of her nose.

Is she...drunk?