Chapter 43-1

She was 11 the first time her father was arrested. The sound of emergency responders in her neighbourhood wasn't an odd occurrence, and one she often slept through. In early morning September of seventh grade, Marley Hoover rolled over in her pale pink sheets, shoving her face into her pillows with a groan at the wailing sirens. Her room was dark apart from a light blue night light on the left side of her door, illuminating the floor and outlines of her largest furniture pieces. Tendrils of her shoulder-length, coffee brown hair were splayed around her pillow, tangled and messy, concealing her tiny face and delicate features. She peeled a hazel eye open after five minutes of the repeated blaring, sighing in annoyance. Curling her tiny fingers into the mattress, she lifted her body upwards and struggled into a sitting position while the blood rushed to her head. Blinking rapidly, she cocked her head sideways, her hair following suit wh