“Yeah,” Fina says, putting her foot down and wincing. “I think so.”

I text Mom where to get us. Then we follow Madeline back to the door, where Fina hands her the letter from the publisher. “So, will you think about the new edition?” she asks. “And what Emma said?”

“I will,” Madeline says slowly. “I will . . . think about it.”

I smile at her as she opens the door and cold air rushes in. Fina hobbles out onto the porch.

“Madeline,” I say, “thank you for telling us the truth. It means a lot. But can I ask you one more thing?”

We need to go—Mom is probably going to be really mad at me—but I just have to know. There’s one thing Gram kept from me that I still don’t understand.

Madeline looks at me, waiting.

“Why do you think Gram didn’t tell me about her vitiligo? Is it because she was ashamed, like her parents were?”

She blinks, slowly, then shakes her head. “Your grandmother was never ashamed of who she was. But I think she wanted people to see the color she put into the world. Not the color that had been taken from her skin.”

“Yeah,” I reply, imagining Gram sitting by the river, a paintbrush in her hand. “That sounds like her.”

“Interesting that your vitiligo should come on after she died,” Madeline murmurs just as I turn away.

“Why?”

“My understanding is these things are often brought on by—what’s the word?—traumas.”

I’m pretty sure Dr. Howard’s pamphlet said something about vitiligo getting triggered by certain things—except it used the word “stress.” I never thought about it being triggered by Gram’s death, though, because “stress” is a word you use to describe how you feel before a big test. Not how you feel when your grandmother—who also happens to be your best friend—dies.

“I thought I was cursed,” I mumble. “First Gram and then my skin.”

Madeline reaches out once more, her hand trembling slightly, and this time she does brush it against my cheek. “You are not cursed,” she says. “Every spot you get is just more proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“Of how much you loved your gram, of course. Of how much you’ll always love her. And there is nothing in this world more beautiful than love, Emma Talbot.”

As I turn to go, my heart feels like it’s splitting open and being mended back together at the very same time.

45

Mom and Dad aren’t just worried when Fina, Boomer, and I appear at the top of Briar Hollow Lane. They’re furious. Then they see that Fina is limping, and they go back to worrying.

“What happened?” Mom says breathlessly. “Why didn’t you call us? What are you doing out here?”

Instead of answering, I throw my arms around her, then Dad.