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She spent the next five minutes explaining everything—from the pregnancy scare to what the doctor had told her. I’d put most of what he said together on my own when I figured out her mom had drugged me. But hearing it confirmed was something else. I’d been hoping she was just a little psychotic, not full-blown psychotic. Drugging her own daughter and keeping her in a wheelchair was beyond fucked up.

I swallowed hard, scowling. “I’m not sure what to say, here.”

Kennedy looked down. “I don’t know if there’s anything to say. I guess I just feel like I wanted you to know. To hear what you thought I should do? Part of me doesn’t believe it, still. I want to think she’s innocent and this is all some big misunderstanding.”

“Have they contacted her yet?”

“Not yet. I just saw the doctor earlier today. She’s been at work all day. I guess maybe they could’ve called her already at work or something. But I haven’t heard from her.”

I thought back to the bitter taste of the sweet tea—to the sinking realization of what her mom had been capable of when she felt threatened. “Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”

“What do you mean?”

I hesitated. It had gone way past the point where keeping Kennedy in the dark was keeping her safe. Now, she needed to know. She had to know what her mom was capable of, so she’d realize how dangerous it was to stay in that house once the cat was out of the bag.

“Your mom drugged me,” I said slowly.

Kennedy didn’t say anything at first. Her eyes flicked down to the ground, then she finally shook her head slightly. “I don’t—why would she do that?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “But it was the night we had dinner. I could tell something was wrong on my way home. And the only person who could’ve possibly known to call an ambulance for me would be your mom. Same with the tip to coach for the drug test, which turned up traces of whatever she spiked that sweet tea with.”

Kennedy shook her head more fiercely now. “No.”

I sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you any of this. But now…”

“Wait. You’ve known this since that night, haven’t you? Even in the hospital?”

I nodded.

Anger flashed across her face. She pushed her chair toward me and gave me a shove, which just made her roll backwards. Her face was still scrunched up in fury as she pushed herself back to me again and tried to give me another shove. I caught her hands this time, pulling her halfway out of her chair and on top of me so I could wrap her in a hug. She still tried to hit me a few times, but I let her do it, tiring herself out until the anger turned to sobs. “Why would you keep that from me?” Her voice was muffled by my shoulder.

“You already lost your dad. I didn’t want to take your mom away, too,” I said quietly. “You were one of the only good things that ever happened to me. I’ve broken a lot of things in my life, but I didn’t want to add you to the list. I wanted to do the right thing, for once.”

She squeezed tighter, her tears warm as they soaked through my shirt and settled against my skin.41KennedyI headed home from Tristan’s about thirty minutes before my mom was due back. Tristan walked with me, but our plan was for him to wait upstairs when I confronted my mom. As much as it hurt to admit, he was right. If she was capable of drugging him and lying to me all these years, I really didn’t know her like I thought I did. I needed to be careful, but she was still my mom. I wanted to be the one who talked to her about this—to give her a chance to explain.

Tristan waited in my room, promising he’d come help me if my mom decided to do something crazy.

She walked in and set her things down, blowing out her usual, “what a long day,” sigh. But I thought she looked more tense. Had they already called her about the tests I’d had done?

“Mom,” I said.

She didn’t look at me right away. Her hands were still on her keys and her eyes were down.

“Am I really sick?”

She stayed quiet for so long I wasn’t sure she’d heard me.

“You know what’s sick?” She asked in an eerily quiet voice. “Out there.” She jabbed a finger outside. “I tried to protect you from all of that.”

“This isn’t a life,” I said, waving my hand around the house. “Being trapped at home all the time or in my bed. Having no friends. Just existing for the sake of existing? That’s what you wanted for me?”

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