“There was stuff on the printer.” She nods, as if convincing herself this is the right thing to do, unburdening herself. Saying this out loud. Her confession. “I saw the pole vaulting picture. And I knew about the SATs. I heard them talking to Dr. Wilson.”

“Stop. Let me call Kenny. We need to make sure you’re protected.” The prospect of my mom and me facing legal consequences is terrifying, but the idea of Isla being brought into this is unimaginable. I used to think that scene in the Hunger Games, when Katniss steps up and volunteers as tribute, was ridiculous. That she would risk almost certain death for her annoying little sister? Now I get it.

I’d go to prison for life to keep Isla out of this mess. I really would.

“I’m fine. Safe. Whatever. I can’t be…you know, I’m too far removed. I did my research. I can’t be held responsible for having dishonorable parents,” she says with a shaky laugh.

“Why didn’t you say something to me, then?” I think about how that conversation could have gone, if we could have avoided this mess in the first place.

“I tried.”

My brain short-circuits for a minute, and then I remember. Thanksgiving break. Isla asked about my supposed ADHD and I thought she was being judgmental. How if she wasn’t so good at test taking, she too would understand the pressure of the SAT. I had it all wrong. She knew we’d gone over the edge and was looking for me to help pull us back.

Did I know then about Proctor Dan?

Isla is talking about passively knowing, and I wonder if there is such a thing as aggressively, actively choosing not to know.

A 1440 was magic, a vision board made manifest, what felt like the work of God, not man.

But I’ve never believed in magic. Or vision boards. I’m still fifty-fifty on God.

I was, am, such an asshole.

“Did you like Crime and Punishment? The book, I mean.” This is my way of telling her I know exactly the conversation she’s talking about.

“Oh, I never got past page twenty.”

“What? I saw you.”

“I knew my reading it for fun would piss you off,” Isla says, and I laugh and hit her with a throw pillow. “I should have stopped you guys. Or spoken up more. Then this never would have happened.”

“Isl, you’re the smartest person in this house and maybe the best, but it’s not your job to keep us from…”

I stop, trying to think of the best way to put it.

“Cheating?” she asks. “Breaking the law?”