Jasper swallowed her bite. “Before I say anything, I need to be sure you understand that this is no joke. It’s super serious, and if you were to tell anyone at all, you’d seriously ruin my life. But you might also ruin other people’s lives. I know it might sound like I’m exaggerating, but I’m not, Leah. Not at all. You get that?”

“Yes,” I said. “You can trust me. I’m a vault.”

“I do,” said Jasper. “Trust you. But I haven’t told anyone my story before either. I’ve had to be careful. It feels weird to say it out loud, after working so hard to keep quiet.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” I said.

Jasper nodded, and took a deep breath, like she was getting ready to dive underwater. “You asked about my mom. And, yes, my mom is alive. But . . . she’s not a mom like your mom. She’s not okay. At all. She’s a mess.”

“What kind of mess?” I asked.

“Like a crazy-drunk mess,” said Jasper. “And not like a having-some-beers-and-dancing-barefoot-at-a-neighbor’s-house mess. Like the kind of mess you see in a sad movie. Like sometimes there’s an empty vodka bottle in her car because that was where she drank it. Like they took her driver’s license away.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Once, I came home from school and I found her asleep in the yard. Not passed out, just sleeping. Snoring and everything, like she was in bed. All the other kids from the bus stop walked away really fast when they saw her. It was terrible.”

“Oh, God. I’d want to run away from home too if that was my mom.”

“The thing is,” said Jasper, “I didn’t. I didn’t run away from her. My mom is only the beginning of the story. When your mom falls asleep in the yard, people notice. And people help. Or that’s what they call it. They call the police. And then the police come and the house is a disaster or your mom is in her nightgown or whatever. And maybe not the first time, but the second or the third or the fourth, they take you away, because they think your mom doesn’t know how to take care of you. And then you have to go live with someone else.”

“So you went to live with your dad?”

“No,” said Jasper. “My dad hasn’t ever been in the picture. I have his last name and, like, some mixtapes he made for my mom when they were dating. And some pictures. Anyway, the point is, I’ve never met him. He got my mom pregnant and left. I think he lives in Ohio.”

“Oh, so you’re not Jewish, really?”