Page 112

“No. There was something else.”

The room fades.

For one terrible second, I am thirteen again.

The wind whips my hair across my face.

Dad is kneeling in front of me near the stone wall overlooking the water.

His hands are shaking.

He places something in the pocket of my jacket.

Don’t tell your sisters.

I gasp and grab Ben’s shirt.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Dad gave me something.”

Mom comes closer. “At Lands End?”

“Yes.”

“What did he give you?”

“I don’t know.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, but the memory has already slipped away.

“Think about your jacket,” Ivy says. “What color was it?”

“Red.”

I can see that much.

A red rain jacket with a broken zipper. I hated it because Storm had worn it first; it was a hand-me-down.

“What happened to it?” Marquez asks.

“Grandpa took it.”

Mom’s expression changes. “No, he didn’t.”

“Yes, he did. After Dad died.”

“I donated your outgrown clothes.”

“Not the red jacket.”

I turn toward Storm.

“You remember.”

She frowns. “Grandpa came to the house while Mom was meeting with the funeral director.”

“He went into our bedroom,” I say.