I did as she said. Half my face was untouched, all me. The other half was a sinister blue cartoon character with a sharply arched black brow, lid and under eye filled in stark white and outlined with black. Half my mouth was a ghoulish, painfully stretched scowl taking up most of my cheek, outlined in black and filled in creamy white, the lip stained red. I didn’t even care if she used real lipstick, I looked so damn cool. She’d even spiked half of my hair with blue and gray paint.

It was exhilarating to be someone else. I’d felt unleashed. Buzzed. A little insane.

That’s how I felt now. Two-Face. Two completely separate entities.

I loved Mom for her good intentions. I hated Mom for making me do those things.

She didn’t make you.

OK, that’s true. But if she wouldn’t have filled my mind with that garbage, I never would have done it.

Mom made a choking sound. Gagging on her own spit woke her up. “Are you here, Trevor?” Her head laid heavy on her warm, damp pillow, and she gazed up at the ceiling. Her eyes fidgeted in their sockets.

“I’m here, Mom.”

Her voice raspy, unoiled, she said, “I used to worry she would lace your coffee with—” She coughed a bit, cleared the phlegm rattling her throat, and continued, “with antifreeze. How could she not, being raised in that house?”

“Let’s not talk about this, Mom. Can I get you something to eat?” Mom never used to talk about Heather like this. It had only started since we’d moved back.

“I waited, worrying, looking for clues, for years.” She cleared her throat again.

“Would you like some water?”

She lifted her palm to him. Stop. She lowered her hand to her side, resting it on top of the thin sheet. A cadaver’s sheet.

“I got tired of waiting. I got comfortable with her.” Her mouth broke into a smile. “I saw in her eyes, she adored you. I started to eat her casseroles.”

“I’m glad you let your guard down. She’s a good person. Hey, do you feel like eating a bite of applesauce?”

“When I saw her with Emily, how she pecked at the girl with kisses, how much of a doting mother she was, I realized I’d been foolish.” She turned her face toward me, locked eyes with me. “Now, Trevor, I am worried for her.” Coughing gripped her. Tears leaked from her eyes.

I went to her and slipped my hand under her back. Her nightgown was damp against my palm. She smelled of skin and hair. All keratin.

“Better now?” I said.