“Can you also grab me a towel?” she asks, holding out her mug. I know that while I help Kenny with fractions, she’ll clean the kitchen. Then she and Bob will watch TV together while I finish my homework. Before we moved, my mom used to tuck me in and turn out my light every night. I still wish I could have a good-night kiss, the kind in the dark where you can smell your mom and feel her warm breath. Sometimes it’s enough to feel something real without seeing it.

I bring her a towel and she gives me a grateful look. I know that because I don’t cry or reject basic personal hygiene, I am a relief to her. And easy to overlook. She looked so happy when she was sorting photos and remembering the wedding. I decide to keep my questions—and my secrets—to myself. Not only because Mercedes told me to. The last thing my mom needs right now is me asking about some jungle dad.

CHAPTER 10 Mercedes

I jerk awake in the middle of the night to find Tristan standing next to my bed.

“Mermer,” he whispers. He shifts back and forth on bare feet. “Are you awake?”

I reach for his hand. He has nightmares. When Mom’s out of town—which is most of the time—he comes to me. Cristina’s room is downstairs next to the kitchen, so she never hears him crying.

“I am now,” I say, and sit up. “What was it about this time?”

Tristan sniffles. He better not be getting snot on my bedspread.

“There was a tornado and we all flew away.”

“There are no tornadoes.” I get out of bed. Every nightmare is different, but they’re always about disasters. Cristina lets him watch too many movies. “Come on, I’ll take you back to bed.”

After I bring him a cup of water and he climbs under his covers, Tristan closes his eyes and smiles. “Thank you,” he whispers. This is the one time having a brother isn’t annoying.

Back in my own room, I can’t get back to sleep. I get out of bed and look out the window at the trees of the neighborhood, the glimpse of rocky cliff, and the shadow of the ocean beyond. The night sky is black, blank like a chalkboard before anyone has written on it. Then I spot one star hanging just above the water like the beginning of a story. We’re learning about stars in science class and Ms. Garcia says that you can tell the stars apart from the planets because stars twinkle. The star balancing above the ocean twinkles. It winks at me. A strange, sticky feeling attaches itself to me like I was the one with the nightmare.