“We’re not finished discussing this,” Siri heaves out to Mara. “And that’s the only reason I’m going back with you.”

Siri takes her iPhone and leaves Gladys on the nightstand.

“Sier, I’d love for you to come stay with me for a bit,” Grier throws out belatedly.

“I’ve been there for the last five days, Dad.”

“But I didn’t know. I’d like to spend some time with you. The real you.”

Wow. Dad would like to “spend some time” with the daughter he abandoned. He says it as if he hasn’t seen her in a couple of weeks rather than a decade.

Papa and Grams exchange a heartfelt hug. Siri watches me as she exits with our mother.

Dad gets up.

“Send me those notes,” I say suddenly.

He nods. He looks worried. I’ve never seen him look so worried. “Jame, you should come home.”

“I’m fine, Grier.”

He closes his eyes and opens them slowly. “I’ll email you the notes … You know, I knew something weird was afoot. I didn’t not notice you weren’t yourself.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Jamie.” He steps closer. “I knew something was very different. I could never have guessed that something as wild as you’re describing actually happened. Do you think your grandparents actually wrapped their brains around that tidbit, because they have yet to comment.”

I glance over to where Grams and Papa are huddled near the door. “Doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

“What’s over?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know … everything.” I grab my shit and stagger over to Papa.

Things that are over: my dream career, my best friend, my belief that parental recompense would make me feel less hollow inside, my thing with Zarar, the fragile bond I formed with my sister, me. I am canceled.

83. A Girl Ruined Everything

JAMIE

September 9, Late Tuesday Night/ Early Wednesday Morning

New Jersey

Papa’s extra room is tiny. I stretch the mint-green sheet he gave me across the frameless full-size bed and try to smoosh the fitted bit over the corner that’s up against the wall.

Apparently, this was Mara’s room. There are a few pieces of old furniture, a dresser, and a mirror, but they’re covered in odds and ends. Papers. There are boxes along the floor and stacked against the walls.

Papa appears in the doorway. “Here’s a pillow, sweetie.” He hands me a pillow and disappears again. “And here’s a clean blanket.” He reappears with a thick, soft, green blanket.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

He lingers in the doorway. “Jamie.”

I look up from where I’m spreading the blanket over the sheets. “Yeah?”