Edie doesn’t look up at all. I wonder if her dad is going to have dinner with them tomorrow, and if not, if Edie’s thinking about what it’s going to be like having Thanksgiving without him. I wonder if she’s told any of her friends, but my guess is she hasn’t, since she asked me not to tell anyone about seeing her crying.

I feel a pang of sympathy for her. Because I’ve just realized that, no matter how popular Edie seems to be, in this moment she is just as lonely as Madeline Mitchell.

48

I take the school bus home that afternoon, and when I walk into Morning Glory Cottage, Mom is on the phone in the kitchen.

“Sounds good,” she chirps, waving at me when I appear.

Lily is sitting at the table reading something. As I draw nearer, I see it’s The World at the End of the Tunnel. Not my copy. This one looks like she just bought it from the bookstore.

“Thought we were too old for books like that?” I ask.

Her lips twitch into a smile. “Okay, okay. You were right about this one. It’s pretty good so far, actually. Even for a highly sophisticated college applicant like me.”

“Great,” Mom says. “We’ll see you tomorrow! Two o’clock.”

“Who are we seeing tomorrow?” I ask once Mom hangs up.

“Well,” she says, smiling mischievously, “I called Ms. Ramirez this morning to check in about last night. Turns out Mr. Ramirez forgot to buy a turkey. We got to chatting, and we thought we could do a joint Thanksgiving.”

“Really?” I squeal. I haven’t said anything to anyone about it, but I’ve been kind of dreading tomorrow. The empty spot where Gram should have sat. Having Fina there will make it so much better.

“Both our families are missing people this year,” Mom says. “So it seemed like the right thing to do.”

She plants a kiss on my head, then goes upstairs to find a recipe from some old book.

I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. But annoyingly, I find my thoughts drifting back to Edie and the empty spot that will probably be at her table tomorrow. Even though I know she’s the last person I should be feeling sorry for, I do. It’s hard enough to miss someone you’ve lost. I can’t imagine how hard it is to know that that someone doesn’t miss you back. At least, not enough to come home.

“Hey, Lily?” I say suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“I need a favor.”

She looks up from the book, raising an eyebrow.

“I need you to drive me somewhere. Tonight. And I need to borrow your book.”