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“I’m going to go give your mom a call,” he says.
“Yeah,” I sniffle. “That sounds good.”
I head to my room, close the door behind me, and call Ally one last time. It goes straight to voicemail like I expect it to.
“Hey, Ally. I’m just…um. This is the last one, I promise. They’re going to arrest me tomorrow. And…look, I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but I really need you to tell them you were with me when they ask. It’s really important, Ally. This is bad. I know you’re scared. I know you’re afraid of them, and you’re worried about your mom. I know you’re hurting and…confused, but I have never lied to you. I wouldneverhurt you. I love you so much, Allyson. I just…fuck. I wish I could see you. I wish I could hold you and tell you in person. And…that’s it. Be good, okay? Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon…I hope.”
I lie back down on the bed until I hear the doorbell ring. I walk downstairs just as my dad lets my mom and Ivy inside.
“Let me take that for you, Steph,” my dad says, taking the grocery bag from her hands and carrying it to the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom.”
She looks over at me and bursts into tears.
“I’m okay,” I lie as she pulls me into a hug.
“You will be,” she says. “We’re going fix this. But first, I’m going to make you dinner. And I brought a birthday cake.”
“Okay,” I tell her.
Mom kisses me on the forehead and walks past me into the kitchen.
“Hey, Ivy.”
“Get away from me!” Ivy yells and runs after my mom.
“Ivy, wait! What’s wrong?” I call after her. When I enter the kitchen, she’s all but hiding behind my mom’s body.
“Her babysitter let her watch the news,” Mom says. “I’m sorry, Devon. I was furious when I found out.”
So, my sister is scared of me…because she believes I murdered my other sister. That’s perfect.
“Can I help you, Mom?”
“That’s okay, Sweetheart. Just relax.”
“I can’t relax. I need to help. I have to do something.”
“Okay,” she says. “Come over here.”
I help my mom make the lasagna, then we all sit down at the table and eat in silence. The mood is somber, heavy. I eat like it might be the last time I’ll ever have a decent meal because it very well may be, and everyone else mostly pushes their food around on their plate.
Ivy refuses to look at me.
Afterward, my dad clears the table while my mom prepares the cake.
“Um, should we sing?” she asks.
“No,” I tell her. “I don’t want to do that.”
I think that the only thing that could possibly make this worse—that could make this eerie scene more like a Lovecraftian horror show than it already is—would be if we were to gather around the table and sing “Happy Birthday.”
It’s almost comical when she sets a slice of funfetti cake in front of me—on the day that would have been Ally’s new birthday, no less.
Afterward, we all watchLord of the Rings. It was my dad’s idea, and I humored him by pretending it was a good one and that I’d actually be watching instead of lost in my own thoughts for the duration of the movie.
Mom and Ivy end up staying the night. Ivy falls asleep on the couch, and my mom sleeps on the floor in my bedroom.
