“I’m glad you’re home.” She helped me take off my jacket and hung it in the hall closet. “I thought we could have some fun with dinner tonight.”

I followed her into the kitchen, my mouth now filling with an acidic metallic taste, which I tried to swallow. “Can I have a drink?”

“You know where everything is. Help yourself.”

I walked over to the cabinet and got a tumbler. I didn’t usually like soda, but poured myself a glass anyway, hoping it would help wash out the taste. I took a sip, and when I swallowed, I could hear the bubbles exploding in my ears.

“I thought we could turn our food different colors,” she said.

I could tell she was excited, but all I wanted was to blurt everything out. I felt the strongest urge to tell her what Evelyn and I were up to and that I was scared about the changes I was feeling and that I knew I was heading somewhere I didn’t feel brave enough to go. But I didn’t say anything. Instead, I took another sip of soda and this time when I swallowed, the taste didn’t bother me as much. Maybe it went away. Maybe I had gotten used to it.

On the counter, she had set up different bottles of food coloring.

“How about some green mashed potatoes?” She took the top off the bottle and handed it to me. “Three shakes.” The magic formula.

I watched as the drops hit the creamy peaked mounds. The green looked vibrant, unnatural, out of place, and it made me feel sad to mix it, turning the potatoes into something they were not. But Leah was looking at me, full of enthusiasm, so I mixed.

At first, it started as a streak that I could follow with my spoon, but the more I mixed the more the colors blended into the white potatoes and soon it became a solid, uniform shade of apple green.

Then she passed me a bowl of macaroni and cheese. “Be creative.”

I took two bottles this time, blue and red. Three drops each. Then I mixed. The result was the color of plums.

“Fun, don’t you think?” she asked.

I nodded, mostly to please her.

She pushed over a container of vanilla yogurt. I took a red and yellow bottle and turned the yogurt into a bright shade of orange that reminded me of fire.

“Are you ready to eat?” she asked.

I crinkled my nose. The thought of eating green mashed potatoes repulsed me, but she had already put the food out on the table so I took my seat. My fork hovered over the plate.

“I have an idea,” she said. “Close your eyes. See if you can taste the color.”