Grace
The first time she'd found her mother passed out on the floor, she'd thought she was dead. Now, it was so commonplace that she'd developed something of a routine. If she could get her mom to her feet, she'd put her in the shower, get her cleaned up, and put her in bed. If her mom was out cold, she'd cover her with a blanket and turn her head to the side so she wouldn't choke when she vomited. But that was all she could do.
Nothing she said or did seemed to change things. When she was younger, she would cry and beg. When she got older, she'd threaten and yell. But her mom kept drinking and her dad kept looking the other way. The only way she could deal with it was to hide, either within the walls of her bedroom or the ones she'd built around herself.
She'd gotten so used to hiding everything that she didn't know how to do anything else. She hated feeling so helpless. She knew there had to be some solution, somewhere, but she didn't want to do this alone anymore. And looking at Luke, she thought maybe she didn't have to.