Free Julia's Daughters by Colleen Faulkner

called, she woke me up. I couldn’t figure out why she was calling me from her bed.”
    â€œShit. Expelled too? ”
    â€œSure thing. Not suspended, like last month. Expelled. Smoking cigarettes on campus, with marijuana and pills she stole from Linda in her bag.”
    â€œShe stole weed from her grandmother?”
    I sort of laugh, but only to keep from starting to cry. “I don’t know where she got the weed. Probably one of her uncles.” I’m being facetious now. Ben’s brothers would never give my daughters weed. I don’t think . . . “I’m more worried about the Percocet, Laney,” I say, thinking out loud. “It was a lot of Percocet.”
    â€œShe’s taking it?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I sigh. I honestly don’t think I’ve seen her high, or zonked out or whatever, but how much time have I spent with her in the last two months? I’ve been too busy drowning in my tears in my bed. “I’d be a fool to think she isn’t taking them. Wouldn’t I?”
    â€œWell, does she act like she’s on drugs? Like she’s sedated? That’s what Percocet would do.”
    When I don’t respond, she exhales. “Right,” she says, and I know she’s remembering what this was like. “I know. You all look like you’re sedated. You all feel like it. So, this all happened yesterday?”
    â€œShe was expelled Thursday. I rescued her from the bathroom on Drug Street last night.”
    â€œWait a minute.”
    I can almost see her doing a double take.
    â€œShe got expelled Thursday and you haven’t asked her about the Percocet yet?” Laney asks, her tone incredulous. “What the hell, Jules?”
    Laney would never let two days pass without getting to the bottom of drug possession by one of her kids. Of course one of her kids would never have drugs in a Ziploc in her Lucky Brand backpack to begin with. They’re all perfect boys; good grades, good behavior, adoration of their mother. And they’re boys. An entirely different species. And one of her kids didn’t kill one of her other kids. She can’t possibly know what this is like for Haley.
    â€œWhy haven’t you talked to her about it?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer before she went on. “And what was she doing at a drug house in the middle of the night? I’m not even sure I know what a drug house is.”
    â€œJust what you would think. I saw, firsthand, what I realize now was a crack pipe.” I hold the phone with one hand and rub my temple with the other. The towel is slipping again. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through, Laney. She and Caitlin, they were best friends, they—” I feel the tears coming. “I can’t imagine,” I repeat. I can, of course. I understand the devastating, debilitating loss, but there’s no way I can know what it feels like to be Haley. Not really. My daughter died, but Haley was the one responsible for her sister’s death.
    â€œYou can’t just let it ride, Jules. I know she’s been through a lot, but you can’t let this go.”
    â€œI know,” I say.
    â€œShe’s your daughter and you’re responsible for her, for her choices, for her life,” she says passionately.
    â€œI know. I know.” I sniffle. “But I don’t know what to do,” I whisper. Suddenly I’m shaking, not with cold, but with fear. “I can’t lose her, too,” I murmur as much to myself as to Laney as I realize the threat might be real.
    â€œSo get her out of there. Change of scenery. Get her away from the people and places that are negatively influencing her.”
    â€œNo.” I reach for a tissue from the box on the sink. Empty. I lean over and pull a length of toilet paper from the roll. “No,” I repeat firmly. “Absolutely not. I’m not sending her to boarding