“That he and that woman are getting married.” In all the time my father had been with Maddy, my mom had never called her by her name. My brother and I used to go there every second weekend and Maddy tried so hard with us, but it always felt awkward. But Zac adored my dad; I had too. More than adored him. I’d idolized him and put him on such a pedestal that when he’d fallen off it, the ground beneath my feet had shaken. In many ways, it was still shaking, and my feet had never really found solid ground since.

“Not that I care, of course,” she said. “Why the hell would I care? You know I have a fifty-million-rand listing in Bishopscourt. That YouTube ad is paying off. It’s been viewed over a hundred thousand times, I’m basically viral. I’m a . . . what do you call it?” She looked at me and clicked her fingers. “You know what I mean, a social . . . what do they call it . . . influencer. I’m a social influencer.”

“Wait . . . ” I shook my head, trying to process this information. I was still stuck on the news that my father was engaged and hadn’t told me. “They’re getting married. When did this happen? When did he tell you?”

“Do you know what the commission on fifty million is?” She completely ignored my question.

My stomach constricted. I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to yell that she needed to snap back to reality. She’d been so far gone for so long, she needed to come back down to earth and reenter the atmosphere. I wondered if the woman that I used to know as my mother was even in there anymore. In that body that was starting to look so strange. Those lips and tight forehead and wide eyes that were starting to remind me more of a Picasso than an actual person.

I took a deep breath. “I’m going out,” I said slowly and calmly.

“Does Zac know?”

“He’s listening to music. I didn’t tell him.”

“You know how he can get when you don’t tell him things like that.”

I put my hand on my hip. “Why don’t you tell him this time,” I spat sarcastically.

“Lori Pa—”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s my name.” I cut her off abruptly; I hoped my angry tone hid what I was really feeling inside right now. Pain. We stared at each other for a minute, eyes locked, and I wished so much that she would open her mouth and actually talk to me for once. Like a real person. Like a mom. That she would say something of actual value. Something that mattered and meant something. But she didn’t.