I’m sorry. Please go with it, she mouths back. I glance at Salem, who has a fake smile on his face that doesn’t quite go with the look in his eyes that says he knows dinner will be followed by his execution. There’s an empty seat next to him, presumably for me, and I slide into it, immediately digging my fingernails into his thigh. He must’ve expected it, because he grits his teeth but doesn’t make a sound.

“Sammy, aren’t you even going to say hi?” Mrs. Grayson asks, retaking her own seat. “Evie, I’m so glad you could come to dinner. Sammy said you were studying, but I knew you’d make it here so we could get to meet you.” She covers my hand with her freckled one, and I’m struck by the fact that she bears absolutely no resemblance to the twins. “Sammy tells me you work very hard.”

I’m working very hard on not choking every time she says “Sammy,” that’s for sure. But as long as I’m here, I may as well have some fun with this. “I do,” I say, nodding. “Sammy and I study together all the time. He’s such a good listener when he needs things explained to him.”

“Which isn’t often,” Salem says through gritted teeth. “But yeah, we make a good team.”

God, it feels like he practiced this. Did he practice this? Was the whole invite at breakfast the day I told them my parents weren’t coming part of this plan? I have so many questions. But now is clearly not the time, because their mom has even more, and I am getting all of them.

Yes, I’m from New Hampshire originally.

No, I don’t know where I want to go to college yet. Of course Dartmouth would be great, but yes, it is very competitive.

No, my parents couldn’t make it—they had to work. Bank branch manager and paralegal. Yes, I also have a sister. A year older. Not sure about college yet either. Maybe UNH, or Radleigh University.

By the time the third degree is over—or at least takes a break for the welcome speech—the Grayson parents probably know more about me than my own do. I kept waiting for Salem to break in, but he just sat there, nodding along as if I were fascinating, because apparently acting is on his list of talents as well. I wasn’t, in fact, particularly interesting, and yet the Graysons are looking at me like I’m the second coming. It’s both weird and such a nice change from the looks I got from my parents in the few months before I came here that I haven’t even stuck a fork in Salem’s leg yet for making me do this without warning or explanation.

Then again, I have a much better idea.