She hasn’t had a drink in almost four days, and she thinks she is going to die. She spends most evenings curled up on the couch in her tiny apartment, trying to think about anything but the fact that she’s not drinking. She lives alone now that Jake has gone to live with his dad full time. She knows another mother, a better mother, would fight to get her son back, and she hates herself for feeling relieved rather than guilty that he is gone.

            Last month, she and her sponsor went through the entire apartment and got rid of every bottle she had, even the ones she’d forgotten she’d hidden. Mark, her sponsor, knew about hiding places that she thought were all her own. Apparently all drunks are alike.

            She calls Mark because she knows she needs to do something.

            “You’re going to be fine,” he says, and she wonders if she should invite him over. “I know it’s tough, but you’re a strong woman, Meredith.”

            “But I really need—”

            “Try to think about other things you need. Think about how you need to treat yourself better. Think about how you can feel better without a drink.”

            She breathes heavily into the phone. “I can’t,” she says. “I can’t feel better.”