Fighting Words

Fighting Words Plot Summary

Introduction

In the oppressive silence of a foster home, ten-year-old Della Roberts sits frozen, staring at her new ampersand tattoo. Her teacher gasps in shock, but the girl lifts her wrist proudly, displaying the mark that binds her to her older sister Suki. The sisters share more than blood—they share secrets, pain, and the wounds inflicted by a man named Clifton who kept them after their meth-addicted mother went to prison. Now safely placed with their foster mother Francine, they're navigating the aftermath of escape. But safety doesn't heal all wounds. Behind Della's fierce exterior lies a child desperate to protect her sister, who has protected her all her life. When Suki's trauma becomes too heavy to bear, leading to a devastating act that nearly tears them apart, Della must find her voice to speak truths that have remained buried for too long. Through therapy, friendship, and the discovery of her own strength, Della learns that sometimes the bravest thing isn't fighting back—it's howling for help when the pack needs to gather.

Chapter 1: The Sisters' Escape: New Home, New Beginnings

Blood speckled the walls of the kitchen as Suki plunged the knife down. This moment—this terrible, defining moment—wasn't the beginning of their story, but the breaking point that almost ended it. Before that night, there had been Clifton's house, there had been their escape, and now there was Francine's cramped double-house with its tiny yard. "Happy to have you," Francine had said the day they arrived, her pug-like face creased with skin tags that ten-year-old Della couldn't stop staring at. Francine led them to a shared bedroom with bunk beds and two wooden chests of drawers. Two plastic grocery bags—that's all they had. Clifton had burned everything else after they ran. "Don't forget underwear," Francine told them on the way to Old Navy, where each girl received an allowance—two hundred dollars for Della, two hundred fifty for Suki. In the store, Della grabbed colorful underwear, jeans, t-shirts, and a glittering pink hoodie with OLD NAVY emblazoned across it in purple. Then Suki called her over. "Get them," Suki said, pointing to a pair of purple velvet high-top sneakers. Thirty dollars—more than the hoodie. Della hesitated, checking her mental tally. At checkout, she was twenty-one dollars over budget. Suki put back one of her own sports bras and a shirt. "Gotta take care of my girl," she said, paying for Della's treasured shoes. That night in their new bunk bed, before falling asleep, they performed their ritual. Suki held up her hand, fingers splayed. Della pressed her pinkie against Suki's thumb, her thumb against Suki's pinkie. Their hands walked through the air as they sang their lullaby: "Skinnamarinky dinky dink, skinnamarinky do, I love you..." Francine was direct about her motives. "I keep foster kids for the money," she said, stubbing out a cigarette. "I only take girls. Two at a time, when I can." But despite her bluntness, she fed them well, got them what they needed, and let them be. On Della's first day at her new school, she wore her glitter hoodie and purple velvet high-tops. The teacher, Ms. Davonte, frowned at her lack of school supplies and introduced her to the class. A boy named Trevor immediately targeted her, whispering "Too bad you're so ugly, wearing them" about her shoes. When Trevor called her stupid after a math quiz, Della called him a "snowman"—her substitute for a curse word. It was the first skirmish in what would become an ongoing battle.

Chapter 2: Unseen Wounds: Della's Discovery of Suki's Trauma

Suki's eyes were empty, her voice hollow as she clutched her new Food City uniform. "This wolf is my family tree," Della had told Ms. Davonte earlier that day, refusing to draw her actual family for a class assignment. Now, watching her sister fold the brown uniform pants Francine had just purchased, Della sensed something shifting beneath Suki's careful mask. Their social worker had organized an appointment to discuss their "Permanency Plan." Suki insisted that when she turned eighteen in seventeen months and three weeks, she would take custody of Della. The social worker's pen scratched across her notepad as she calculated minimum wage hours against car insurance, phone bills, apartment deposits. The math didn't add up. Two thousand dollars saved wouldn't be enough. "I can't keep doing everything," Suki suddenly snapped when Della complained about being sent to the YMCA after-school program without consultation. "I've been stuck taking care of you since you were born!" The words hung between them, alien and sharp. In all their years together, through their mother's incarceration and Clifton's house, Suki had never spoken like this. At night, Suki began screaming in her sleep. The nightmares came reliably at 2 a.m., leaving her shaking and confused. "I didn't know," she whispered once, still half in the nightmare. "I did tell someone. Teena asked me, 'Why didn't you tell?' I did. I told Stacy. She called me a liar and never wanted to be my friend again." Della didn't understand. "But fifth grade was before Mama left," she said, before their mother blew up a motel room cooking meth and went to prison. "Yeah. Maybe I'm wrong," Suki said, sounding lost. "But that's why—I was afraid to tell anybody else. I couldn't lose Teena." Teena, their neighbor and closest friend, had been the one to call the police when they'd fled from Clifton. Now Suki refused to see her, refused to let Della see her. Something terrible had happened that Della couldn't quite piece together—something worse than what Clifton had done to her the night they ran. One Thursday night at Francine's, Della found herself alone with Suki. She ventured the question: "Suki, did you let Clifton hurt you so he wouldn't hurt me?" Suki's eyes flashed with fierce intensity. "No. I didn't. It was never—I never had any kind of choice. He didn't mess with you, that's all." She smoothed Della's hair. "I'm so glad he didn't. Don't you dare feel guilty." "How old were you?" Della asked. "The first time—" "Eight? Nine? Right after we moved in with him. When we still had Mama." The truth crashed down like a collapsing house. Clifton had abused Suki for years, while their mother was still around. While Suki was just a little girl herself.

Chapter 3: Breaking Point: When Survival Becomes Too Heavy

Friday nights had always been the worst. Fridays were when Clifton returned from his long-haul trucking routes. Now Suki worked the Friday night shift at Food City while Francine went out with friends, but this particular Friday, Suki had been pulled from the schedule after an altercation with Teena. She stayed home, buried under blankets in the top bunk, refusing dinner. "Want to make us some mac 'n' cheese?" Della asked, poking her sister. Suki sat up and roared, "Do I have to do EVERYTHING for you? You're ten years old! I had to take care of you my whole snow life! I had to take care of you when I was six! It was too much, all right? I was too little! When is somebody going to take care of me?" Della retreated, tears streaming down her face. She made herself a box of mac 'n' cheese, eating it alone while the crunchy noodles stuck in her throat. Later, she heard Suki crying and climbed into the bunk beside her. "I hate Fridays," Suki whispered. "I know." Della tried to cuddle her, but Suki pushed her away. "Please don't touch me tonight," she said. "Please just leave me alone." Della returned to the living room, eventually falling asleep on the couch. She woke at 2:48 a.m., needing to use the bathroom. When she walked into the hallway, she saw Suki sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a knife. Not holding it, just staring, as if it were singing a song only she could hear. In that frozen moment, everything clicked into place. The nightmares. The way Suki flinched when certain things were said. The years of protecting Della while no one protected her. What Clifton had done to Della once, he had done to Suki hundreds of times. Suki looked up and saw Della. She grabbed the knife, quick and hard. Della yelled, "SUKI!" She plunged the knife down into her own wrist. Blood splattered like it was coming from a nozzle. Suki stared at it, dazed. Della lunged forward, screaming for Francine. The knife clattered to the floor. Francine grabbed a kitchen towel, smacked it against Suki's wrist, and held tight while Della called 911. The ambulance strapped Suki onto a stretcher. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Della sobbed, kneeling beside her sister. Suki didn't move, but she was still breathing. She didn't die.

Chapter 4: Hospital Confessions: The Truth Behind the Silence

The psychiatric hospital walls were painted soft puke green. Suki sat in a chair in the corner, her legs folded under her. When she saw Della, she made a noise like a startled baby. They clung to each other, sobbing. "Are you mad at me?" Suki asked when they were finally left alone. "You ever try anything like that again, I'm gonna kill you," Della answered, suddenly furious. Suki gave a tiny snort of laughter. "Well—" "It's not funny! It wasn't funny! It was worse than Clifton!" Suki's smile evaporated. "Was not," she said. "Was," Della insisted. "Clifton, he's over. If you'd died it would have been forever." "I don't feel like I'll ever be over him," Suki admitted. "That's what my therapist says. I dunno if I believe him." She looked so frail and scared that Della's anger melted into grief. "I like being raised by a wolf," she said softly. "Wolves live in packs. They take care of each other." "Wild animals," Suki said. "They fight back, Suki. Nothing kills a wolf." Later, when Della returned home with Francine, she crawled into the top bunk and pressed her face into Suki's pillow, breathing in her scent. The psychiatrists said Suki would stay in the hospital for at least a week, maybe longer. Della couldn't sleep. She kept thinking about Suki, about Clifton, about what he had done. She kept thinking about her mother, incarcerated in Kansas, suffering from a psychotic break after years of meth use—how much Suki must have missed her, too. At therapy with Dr. Fremont and her yellow therapy dog Rosie, Della finally asked the hardest question: "Is it always like this? Does it always cause problems?" Dr. Fremont nodded. "Always," she said. "It hurts people in lots of big ways." She scratched Rosie's head. "The good news is, people can and do heal. They can and do get better." Della learned grounding techniques. Five things she could see, four she could touch, three she could hear, two she could smell, one she could taste. She practiced belly breathing and spelling her name backwards: S-U-O-I-C-I-L-E-D. It helped, but it wasn't enough.

Chapter 5: Learning to Howl: Finding Courage to Tell Their Story

When Suki returned home after two weeks in the hospital, she brought a new mark: a semicolon tattooed beside her scar. "You use semicolons when you don't want to use a period," she explained, her eyes sparkling. "This is to remind myself. My sentence—my story—it's going to keep going on." Della studied her own smooth wrist. "I want one too." "Um, no. You're ten," Suki said. "This is a special sort of symbol. People will think something about you that isn't true." "But it is true," Della insisted. "My story is still going on." At dinner one night, Della made an announcement: "I need to talk to my lawyer. I am going to testify against Clifton in person. I don't want to use that video." "Why not?" Suki asked, alarmed. "The video will work just as well." "I want to," Della said firmly. "I'm going to sit in that courtroom in front of everyone. I'm going to tell them exactly what he did to me. And then I'm going to tell them everything I can about what he did to you." Suki went pale. "No, you aren't." "Yes. I am." "It's my story," Suki protested. "It's your story and it's mine," Della said. "Everything he did to you hurt me too. It's as much my story to tell as it is yours." Suki rested her forehead in her hands. "You don't have any idea how difficult that will be." "I do," Della said. "I'm doing it anyway." That night, Suki showed Della a video about wolves in Yellowstone National Park. Fourteen wolves, reintroduced after being extinct there for seventy years, had changed the entire ecosystem. They'd controlled the deer population, allowed vegetation to return, brought back beavers and birds and stabilized rivers. "It wasn't very many wolves," Suki said softly, "but they changed everything." Next, she showed Della the Yellowstone Youth Conservation Corps website. "It's for high school students. They work for a month at Yellowstone." "They get paid?" Della asked, amazed. "It's like a real job?" Suki nodded. "And they give you food and housing." A real Permanency Plan was forming. "Suki," Della said, "it's great to be a wolf."

Chapter 6: The Pack Protects: Standing Together Against Predators

On Monday, Trevor pinched Della on the playground. "Baby!" he said. Della whirled around and punched him in the gut. The teachers saw only her punch, not his pinch. She was sent to Dr. Penny's office with Trevor, where they waited an hour for their parents to arrive. Trevor's mother wore a fast-food uniform and a hard, mean expression. She said she didn't understand the fuss about "a little teasing." But when Francine arrived, she began quoting school policies about harassment and safe learning environments. In Dr. Penny's office, Ms. Davonte revealed what she'd learned: "Trevor's been pinching the girls to check if they're wearing bras. When they're not, he calls them babies." Trevor's face went red. "Daniel started it," he mumbled, referring to his older brother. "Snapping bra straps. For fun. But the girls in fourth grade mostly don't wear bras, so..." "How is that fun?" Ms. Davonte asked. "It makes the other boys laugh," Trevor admitted. Della stared him down. "The girls never thought it was funny. I hate it. How would you like it if all the girls started grabbing the front of your pants?" Trevor's eyes widened. "Okay," he said, looking away. "I'm sorry." Dr. Penny assigned Trevor three days of in-school suspension for inappropriate touching. Della received only a reflection recess for disrupting class. Outside, Francine drove straight to McDonald's and bought them both chocolate milkshakes. "I'm not trying to mess things up," Della said, sucking hard on her straw. "You didn't mess nothing up," Francine replied. "You did good." Back in class the next day, Della walked up to Trevor. "You are not ever allowed to touch me," she said clearly. "You are never, ever allowed to touch me without my permission in any way." He laughed. "'Without my permission,'" he mocked. "Nobody's going to ask your permission!" A week later, Trevor grabbed Della's back during math class. She jumped to her feet, turning to face him. This time, she didn't punch him. "You just pinched me, and you need to stop," she said loudly. "Never touch me again. Never touch me or any girl in this class without permission ever again." Trevor took a step back, almost looking scared. Ms. Davonte tried to intervene, but Della held firm: "I will not sit down. Not until he promises to stop grabbing me." Across the room, Nevaeh stood up. "Trevor's lying. I saw him pinch Della. Also, he does it to me too." Luisa stood up. "At recess today he pinched my back." Mackinleigh stood up. "He does that to me too." Another girl stood. And another. Six girls standing, besides Della. Trevor's face went red. They had become a pack, protecting each other.

Chapter 7: Ampersand & Semicolon: Symbols of Connected Healing

Della researched symbols late into the night on Suki's laptop. She found what she was looking for, then approached Francine in the living room. "You know how you gotta pay for everything Suki and me absolutely need?" she asked. Francine paused her phone game. "Yeah. You're probably right, and I know your sister can't afford it yet. I'll get you a phone." "Not that." Della showed her a piece of paper with an ampersand drawn on it. "What? It's an 'and' symbol, right?" "Yeah," Della explained. "It's called an ampersand. It also means union. Or going on a journey. Or an expectation for something more to occur." Francine stared at her. "Oh snow. I'd be contributing to the delinquency of a minor." "Suki's a minor." "Not nearly as much as you." "I won't tell anybody." Eventually, Francine relented. Her tattooed buddy came to the house and inked matching ampersands—one on Suki's wrist beside her semicolon, and another on Della's wrist. The semicolon represented continuation; the ampersand represented connection. The next morning, Della sat at her desk when Ms. Davonte noticed the fresh tattoo. "Della, is that a real tattoo?" she gasped. "Yes, ma'am," Della said, holding up her wrist proudly. The ampersand stood out, dark against her skin. "What's it for?" Ms. Davonte asked. Della smiled. "This is to remind me of the best day of my life." "When was that?" "Tomorrow," Della replied. The next day, Suki went to record her testimony against Clifton. The day after, Della would face him in court with her sister watching. Their stories would be separate but always connected. In therapy, Dr. Fremont had shown Della a list of ten adverse childhood experiences. Della had lived through almost all of them. "So I'm pretty much screwed?" she'd asked. "No," Dr. Fremont had answered firmly. "This is the important part, Della. No one is ever screwed. Not you. Not Suki. Not anyone. Bad things happening to you caused bad changes to your brain. But brains can change back. They heal." Like the wolves of Yellowstone, Della and Suki were changing their ecosystem. Speaking truth. Breaking cycles. Howling for justice. Together, they were finding their voices among the broken.

Summary

The sisters stood at the threshold of something new. Suki with her semicolon, declaring her story would continue; Della with her ampersand, binding their journeys together while acknowledging they were separate beings. Clifton would face justice for his crimes—not just against Della, but against Suki too. Their mother remained in Kansas, lost to them, but they were building a new pack: Francine with her pug face and practical care, Teena with her unfailing friendship, Nevaeh and the girls who stood up together. Della had learned that wolves change more than themselves—they transform entire ecosystems. By speaking their truths, the sisters were changing everything around them. Their scars would remain, but they were no longer wounds that bled. "This is to remind me of the best day of my life," Della had told Ms. Davonte about her tattoo. "When was that?" the teacher had asked. "Tomorrow," Della had answered. She meant every day going forward—every day they would face together, howling their truths into a world that needed to hear them, fierce and whole and unafraid.

About Author

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Kimberly Brubaker Bradley

Bradley charts a course through the challenging terrains of historical fiction for children and young adults, focusing on themes of resilience, trauma, and personal growth. Her work often features young protagonists navigating adversity, as seen in her Newbery Honor-winning book "The War That Saved My Life", which centers on a girl's journey to independence during World War II. The authenticity and emotional depth of her stories are enhanced by meticulous research and a background that initially leaned toward chemistry before a transformative encounter with children’s literature. This dedication to historical accuracy allows readers to engage deeply with her narratives, which are infused with compassion and humor.\n\nHer method involves blending well-researched historical contexts with compelling narratives that address difficult subjects such as child sexual abuse, explored in "Fighting Words". Meanwhile, Bradley's biography of Rosalind Franklin highlights her ability to handle scientific themes with sensitivity. Therefore, readers benefit not only from engaging storytelling but also from an exploration of complex, often underrepresented topics in children's literature. Bradley’s works are particularly valuable to young readers for their honest portrayal of growth and healing, providing insights into overcoming personal and societal challenges.\n\nBeyond her writing, Bradley's commitment to literacy advocacy reflects her broader impact, as she founded a nonprofit aimed at providing access to books for children in impoverished areas like Appalachia. Her accolades, including the Josette Frank Award and the Schneider Family Book Award for "The War That Saved My Life", underscore her influence in both literary and educational spheres. This short bio of the author underscores her ability to connect with readers through powerful stories that inspire courage and resilience.

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