A wall of warm air hit us when we stepped out of Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, Arizona. 

So, this was it. This was the state where we were going to leave my sister behind. I'd been in Arizona several times before, but never for this reason. Never for anorexia.

We took forever, trying to find the ranch in Wickenburg, Arizona. We took lots of wrong turns and got frustrated in the heat. Finally, we ended up where we were supposed to be. The office for Remuda Ranch. The woman at the office ushered us into the registration room and gave a whole bunch of papers to my parents and Idina to sign.

There was a little table in the room - a table for four. There were five of us: Idina, my dad, my mom, the registration person, and me. I sat on a couch in the corner, while everyone else crowded around the tiny table.

As the woman passed around the papers and had my parents and sister sign them, I remember asking in a squeaky voice, "Is there anything for me to sign?" For some reason, I would have felt better if there was something for me to sign - like I wasn't useless.

There wasn't. So I felt useless. There was nothing I could do at this point.

The End

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