“I need your help hiding a body, no questions asked,” she hissed into the phone. I could hear people chatting in the background, and I snorted.

“Did Lacey McGuire try selling you anti-aging cream again?” I asked with a chuckle.

My question released the floods of her fury. “That bitch had the audacity to tell me that I could look fifty again with a proper skin care regimen,” Mom snapped with a huff. “I’m forty-fucking-seven! I mean seriously, last month she was selling diet pills. I heard her garage is filled with boxes of pyramid scheme shit.”

Mom hadn’t worked since I was born, and filled her life up with three things: my dad, me, and gossip. Her hair was so big because it was, in fact, full of secrets. She was a midwest prom queen grown up to be a Silicon Valley housewife. She drove a Range Rover, attended goat yoga, and called me every other day to complain about her friend circle. I fucking loved her.

“That’s insane,” I replied.

“You’re telling me. Do you want to know what else is insane? How fucking skinny you look. I saw your Instagram post yesterday. Have you just not eaten at all this summer, Amanda?”

I cringed at her statement. I knew what photo she was talking about. I’d snapped a shot of me reading a new self-help book at the lake. I guess my legs did look a lot thinner. Diets were such a slippery slope. I read once that if you developed an eating disorder while you were fat, you were a success story. If you developed one while skinny, you were sick. I didn’t know what I was or what I had or what the fuck I was doing with my life, but I did know that I was avoiding shit.

“I’ve just been trying to get healthier,” I explained. “Ever since the incident, I just…” My voice trailed off. We both knew what I was going to say. Traumatic experiences tended to make you rethink everything. In the spring, I was an overweight alcoholic. Now, I was...something else. A health nut obsessed with improving her life. We only had one body, after all. And I was all too familiar with how life can change in an instant.

“Just be safe, okay? I’m going to come to visit you soon. Your father and I are worried.”

I knew Dad was worried. He started having groceries delivered to the apartment last week and threatened to drag me back to California if I didn’t take advantage of this fresh start. He pulled quite a few strings to get me here. I needed something new. A new place. A new outlook on life.

“Okay. I miss you guys,” I sighed, squeezing the apple in my palm.