keep returning to the odd coincidence that Iris and I share the same birthday. I once wrote an English report about a science fiction and fantasy writer named Emma Bull. She said that “coincidence is the word we use when we can’t see the levers and pulleys.” Could there be a reason our birthdays are the same? Does that commonality have anything to do with why we’ve connected so strongly?
Tangled up inside, I call Addie as the first rays of light peek over the eastern horizon. She’s always up before dawn, and answers on the first ring.
“Something happened last night,” I tell her. “I really need to talk to somebody. Can you come over?” I burst into tears.
Addie says she’ll leave right away.
While I wait, I go check on Mom. She’s still sleeping so I put Cookie in his crate and go upstairs to change into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Twenty minutes later, I hear a car outside.
Rushing downstairs, I pull open the door. Wyatt is climbing the steps behind his grandmother. I’m so glad to see him that I run past Addie and throw my arms around him. “Thank you for coming.”
As we step apart, he lowers his eyes. “I can only stay a little while before I have to leave for school.”
Addie reaches for the door, saying, “Where’s your mother?”
“Sleeping on the couch. I’m worried about her. She’s totally out of it.” My voice cracks as I add, “Before she fell asleep, she couldn’t stop crying.”
Inside, the three of us pause, our eyes on Mom. Then Addie shrugs out of her coat, whispering, “Help me get her to bed, Lily.”
Wyatt goes out to the porch as Addie and I rouse Mom and take her to her room. She curls up on her bed without a word.
I follow Addie back to the living room, and call Wyatt inside. “What happened?” Addie asks, leading me to the couch and drawing me close to her.
There’s no way to prepare them for the truth, so I just come out with it. “Last night I found out I had a sister. She died of leukemia before I was born. I guess talking about it was too much for Mom. She just—she fell apart.”
Addie doesn’t attempt to hide her shock. “They never told you before?” she gasps.
Pressing my lips together, I shake my head.
“Why not?” Wyatt asks.
“I don’t know.” I twist my fingers in my lap. “I kept asking but she got really upset and said a lot of things that don’t make sense.”
Addie hugs me. “When everything settles down and your mother’s emotions aren’t so raw, maybe she’ll be ready to talk about it. She’s suffered a lot of loss.” She sits back. “What can I do for you, sugar?”
“Nothing. I guess I just needed to tell someone. I feel so alone. I’m sorry I made you come over here.”
“No, I’m glad you called. You’ve been through a lot, too. More than your share.”
“Would you mind staying with Mom while I take a walk? I need to get out of here, and I don’t want her to wake up to an empty house.”
“Sure,” Addie says. “Take your time.”
Turning to Wyatt, I ask, “Will you come?” I bite my lip.
“If we hurry,” he says, still looking injured.
I grab my jacket off the hook by the door and slip it on, then Wyatt follows me outside. The dawn is milky gray, the sky streaked with tenuous light. We take the steps down into the yard and walk in the same direction without even discussing where to go. I know we’ll end up at Ponderosa Pond, our spot, the place where we learned to swim and skip stones across the water, where we shared secrets about broken rules, first beers, and first crushes—Wyatt’s on Kelsey Redgrave in fourth grade, mine on Zac Efron, who I’d crushed on after seeing him in High School Musical. I’ve never told Wyatt my biggest secret, though. Today I’m finally going to.
Wyatt and I reach the pond in ten minutes. I stare across the murky green water, smelling a faint scent of fish in the air. My eyes are so tired, my lids scrape like sandpaper each time I blink. “I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been,” I say. “I should’ve listened to you. Ty doesn’t really care about me. He was only using me.”
Wyatt startles, alarmed. “What are you talking about? Are you okay?” His eyes narrow. “If he hurt you—”