My mom’s ginger-haired boy toy turned out to be a real estate agent named Hayden Harwood. After Lucky left the hospital, Mom was too worried about extracting Evie from the public restrooms to question pesky details, like why I was dressed up and carrying my portfolio. Or why the person I was specifically forbidden to hang around was very much hanging around the hospital when she arrived. You know … stuff like that.

When we got ourselves sorted, Hayden carted us girls all back into town in his insanely big, insanely expensive SUV and dropped us off at Mom’s car … which was stuck in a hotel parking garage, because Mom couldn’t find her parking ticket?

Okay …

Their story was patchy, at best. Hayden’s a whole lot younger than Mom, cockier than he should be, and not at all uncomfortable with the elephant in the room—the fact that he was Mom’s so-called “afternoon errand.” Honestly, I don’t even care. Evie’s not speaking to me, and I’m too stressed about that. So when we finally get the Pink Panther out of the garage and end up going our separate ways at home—Evie to rest in her room and me to develop film in the bookshop’s stockroom—I’m happy not to discuss the matter with Mom. I’m sure she’s relieved too, because every time she tries to talk to me, I politely find a way to excuse myself and thereby avoid any kind of Hey, kid. Sorry I wasn’t there when you girls needed me speech.

What’s the point of apologizing if you’re just going to keep doing it? Besides, if she apologizes to me, then she’ll be able to ask me about my elephant in the room: Lucky Karras.

And I can lie about why he was at the hospital. I guess I’ll have to. But if she doesn’t ask me, then I won’t have to say anything. Which would be easiest for both us. I mean, after all, that’s what she’s taught me, right? If you pretend it never happened, it’s not really a lie.

That’s what she tells herself.

So that’s what I tell myself, too.

The next day, the mood at la Maison de Saint-Martin is still strained but getting better. Evie is talking to me, but she’s prickly and a little reserved. Not her usual I’d Like to Haunt a Gothic Castle reserved; she’s definitely still holding a grudge. For the first time, I realize that maybe it’s not just me that she’s mad at. I think Evie and her friend Vanessa are fighting about the wreck. Maybe Vanessa hates Adrian too; if so, I like her a little more.