"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."
- Ernest Hemingway

Lucas's mother had put together a "Welcome Home" banner and decorated the bannister and kitchen chandelier with crepe paper loops. Brian wasn't home, much to Lucas's relief, and the house was so silent it hurt his ears.

"We'll celebrate later. I know you're both tired," Sarah said gently. "But we've got a surprise for you two!"

"We'll sleep up in my room," Lucas said, taking Nora's hand and starting up the staircase.

"Oh no, young man. Separate rooms. That's the rule," Sarah said, hands on her hips.

Lucas rolled his eyes and kissed Nora's cheek.

"See ya soon," he murmured.

Lucas's room was different. He couldn't figure it out at first but then realized it was clean for the first time in months. His drawers were straightened up, his closet was organized, there were new sheets on a new mattress. His weed stash was gone and so were his cigarettes. All of his old rigs had disappeared. Someone had searched every corner of the room thoroughly. It was no longer his room. Now it belonged to a stranger. He ran his hand over the new sheets, picturing the sort of person who was supposed to live here. A rule follower. A good boy. Somebody's pride and joy.

Sighing, he climbed into the bed that didn't feel like his and slept for two hours straight, groggily awakening to a house full of voices. Nora's parents. His grandparents. Sarah. Brian. Sam crying. Outside it was night. He could see the fresh snow from the window next to his bed. It had filled in their footsteps from earlier and was still falling heavily. The cold seeped through the glass and bit his skin. Shivering, he got out of bed, shook his jeans back on and threw on the first dirty shirt he could find in his suitcase. It smelled like the ranch.

Downstairs, all the lights were on and everyone was laughing and talking in the living room. Well, everyone except for Nora's parents. Even Brian looked happy, bouncing baby Sam on his lap. Nora was talking with Lucas's grandmother when he walked into the room.

"Welcome to your welcome home party!" Sarah exclaimed, blowing a curly noisemaker and tossing a handful of sparkly confetti into the air. Sam reached for it in awe.

Everyone clapped and then one by one hugged him and Nora. He didn't know what to say or what to feel. This wasn't home anymore. When it came time for Brian's hug, Lucas instinctively stepped back, his body rigid, muscles ready for an attack. It was the most awkward few seconds of his entire life, and he could tell Brian felt the same way.

"These are for you, sweetheart," Sarah said cheerfully, pointing to a corner of the room where a beautiful, polished eight-string acoustic and a red electric guitar were propped against the wall.

Lucas couldn't help himself. It was like when he used to prepare a fix, so focused, so eager he wasn't aware of anything else around him. He began walking over to the two instruments, but Sarah pulled him back by his sleeve.

"How about we eat first? Then you can serenade us," she said.

Sarah had ordered pizza, which made Lucas think about Gus's party, which made him think about Gus and Jeff and the ranch. He was surprised to find how much he missed them all. He wished he was there instead of here in this stranger's house. There was too much to process. Being home didn't feel right. He was quiet as he chewed his food, listening to the voices around him. Sarah and Lucas's grandparents were the only ones who were actively trying to carry the conversation. Just once, Nora's mother said,

"You look nice, Nora."

Nora nodded without looking up, and her father said nothing. He refused to even look at her. Lucas could sense her broken heart and intertwined his fingers with hers underneath the table. She gave his hand a squeeze as if to tell him she felt the same way... they were both out of place.

Later in the living room, Lucas strummed his new acoustic guitar and played a few riffs he'd thought up at the ranch. All he wanted was to be up in his room with Nora, just holding her close, thinking out loud about everything that had happened, everything they had learned and decided. This party was going on too long. The hours felt frozen.

Finally, Lucas's grandparents left, followed closely by Nora's parents. Sarah took Sam upstairs to bed, and Lucas was alone in the kitchen washing a stack of plates. That was when Brian suddenly cleared his throat, and Lucas turned and saw him leaning against the stove.

"Lucas," he said, nodding.

"Hey."

Lucas was stiff, and he hoped Brian didn't notice his hands shaking. Why was he still afraid? He'd grown strong and healthy at the ranch, more than capable of defending himself against blows and belts. Why did he still feel like that thirteen-year-old boy hiding in his bedroom? When Brian didn't leave, Lucas turned off the water and faced him. Brian closed the space between them and said in a soft voice,

"We are not friends, Lucas. Don't think for a minute I bought you those guitars for your sake. That was all to make Sarah happy."

"I know that," Lucas said quietly. "I know who you are."

"Then know this. The fact that Sarah found out about that night in the first place is a hundred percent your own fault, and I'll never let you forget it. You broke my only rule: keep your goddamn mouth shut."

Brian looked angry now, angry enough to hit him, but Lucas knew he wouldn't. Something had shifted. For a second it almost felt like Brian was afraid of him.

"I told Nora. Not Mom," Lucas said.

"Either way, you're dead to me. Remember when I said you were renting space here until you're eighteen?"

Lucas nodded.

"Well your eighteenth birthday is in two weeks, and I want you gone."

"Yeah, Mom will totally approve of that after I just got back," Lucas said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"She won't know. All she'll know is that you ran off. Relapsed."

"I'll run, but I won't let her believe I relapsed," Lucas said.

"Well it's not up to you, is it? I'll give you a thousand bucks and a bus ticket to anywhere. You can keep the guitars."

"Or what?"

"Or I make your life a living hell until you break," Brian said in a low voice. "Maybe powder will start appearing where there wasn't any. Maybe a syringe or two will end up on the bathroom floor. Maybe money and valuables will start disappearing. Who knows?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh really? She doesn't trust you already, Lucas. Just look at your room. She went through it with a fine-toothed comb. She's spoken to therapists, already put together a game plan for your inevitable relapse. She's hidden every medication in the house. Plus, everyone knows the old joke. When can you tell a junkie is lying? When their lips are moving."

"You're such a manipulative bastard," Lucas whispered.

"I'm just doing what's best for this family. We were happy when you were gone. After awhile it just felt normal, the way it was always meant to be. I don't care where you go. I don't care if Nora goes with you. I don't care who you become. I just care that you don't come back. Ever."

"I'll come back if Mom wants me to come back."

"If you really want your mother to be happy, if you want Sam to be happy... you'll stay out of our lives. You've caused her nothing but pain. Every time she sees your face she sees your father. She told me that when you were gone. She can't stand to look at you. You are the only reminder left of that old life, that old wound. You want her to move on, right?"

Lucas bit his lip, then nodded.

"Then do the right thing and get the hell out. You have two weeks. I'd start planning if I were you."