Page 38 of Our Crooked Hearts
His shoulders twitched up, like he was bracing himself. “Mom.”
“What about her?”
“She told me not to.”
I didn’t know what I looked like when he said that. But goingby the way his expression changed, I’d say dangerous. “When was this?”
“Summer before I started high school,” he said immediately. “So you were going into seventh grade. I remember because it was right before I came out. You were acting weird for a while, but my mind was on my own shit.”
“Whatexactlydid she say to you?”
“She said—she told me you and Billy had a falling-out and I should leave you alone about it, I shouldn’t tease you. I assumed he’d done something. But then he was so obviously lovesick, I figured it must’ve been you.”
“But you never asked.”
“Like I said.” He looked miserable. “I was distracted.”
“She was lying,” I told him. “I remember none of this.Nothing.”
“That’s…” Hank trailed off, mouth twisting.
“I saw Billy tonight. He told me I broke his heart when we were kids, and that I madeMomdo it for me. Whatever is happening here, she did it.”
“Made you forget an entireperson? How? Why?”
“Oh, come on, Hank,” I said. “We both know she can do stuff.”
I thought he’d argue with me, but he didn’t. “Yeah,” he said quietly.
We looked at each other for a while, neither of us talking.
“What about Dad?” I said. “How much does he know?”
“Ivy,stop.” Hank flopped back onto his bed and covered his face. “Three in the morning is not the time to get into it. Also I may have eaten mushrooms with Jada today and Icannottalkany more about this right now. Obviously you need to talk to Mom. And Billy.”
“Right, except Mom ishidingfrom us, and Billy hates me.”
“Billy’s been in love with you since he was seven,” he said faintly, laying a pillow over his face. “And Mom’ll be home eventually.”
“Billywhat?”
He moved the pillow. “If you let me sleep now, I promise I’ll talk to her with you. Okay? I’m not promising I’lltalk,but I’ll be in the room. I’ll be, like, your lieutenant. But right now you have to let me go to bed.”
I did. I went to the bathroom and stared at my reflection like I might see straight through to my brain, to the traces she’d left when she broke into my head.
Then I remembered standing outside my aunt’s house feeling the subtle weight of being watched, reading the texts Aunt Fee just happened to send right after I rang her bell. What if they were there? Hiding out, taking care of the mysterious “something” that had started with that first dead rabbit. My dad was staying in the city, which meant his car was at the train station less than a mile away. There were spare keys in the junk drawer, and a key to my aunt’s house. This time, if she didn’t answer, I’d let myself in.
Billy’s car was gone from his drive when I stepped outside. I guessed he couldn’t sleep, either.
